


Bright Night Sky

by old_blue



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mystery, Past stephen strange/karl mordo, Prompt Fic, Romance, Vampire hunter Tony Stark, Vampires, Werewolf Stephen Strange, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-07-14 03:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/old_blue/pseuds/old_blue
Summary: Tony Stark has devoted his life to fighting the dark. But after his life is saved by a werewolf, he finds himself drawn to the creature who should be an enemy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Bright Night Sky](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16569146) by [3enjoycultivation3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3enjoycultivation3/pseuds/3enjoycultivation3)



> **OMG, guys! Astral Aberration has made some incredibly amazing[fanart](https://oldbluethings.tumblr.com/image/179966480094) for this story! Check it out right now!**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I started this based on a Halloween prompt by the delightful folks at [Ironstrange Advent Calendar](https://ironstrange-advent-calendar.tumblr.com):
> 
> "Short Prompt: Werewolves
> 
> Long Prompt: Tony Stark, famed inventor and descendent of Abraham Van Helsing, has made a secret living creating weapons to defend against the creatures of the night. By day, he is a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist who has made his living as a weapons manufacturer. At night, he uses the weapons he has secretly crafted to continue his great grandfather’s legacy. He has yet to meet a creature he can’t kill, until his next target turns from a black and silver werewolf into a striking man named Stephen Strange…"
> 
> I chose the long prompt, but I went full AU. So, this ignores most canon events. Contain smut, but nothing objectionable.

Tony Stark had always known he would meet his end fighting against the creatures of night. He pictured dying in some epic battle, after a triumph over the dark, at some nebulous time in the far future. Hopefully, when he was old and had already done everything he wanted to do.

He just never thought it would happen so soon. And on a Wednesday, too.

The vampire on top of him was powerful—an elder of its kind, twisted so far beyond human by a millennium spent feeding off the blood of innocents that its body hardly obeyed the laws of physics. White and bloated like a grub, it should have been slow and fragile, but it was still stronger than his suit at maximum power. Even the protective runes drawn by his nanites on the metal had no effect against the creature. The vamp tore through them like they were made of tissue paper.

"Armor coverage at seventy percent. Power at fifteen percent. Deploying back up." Even Friday sounded concerned, Tony thought. As any A.I. worth her salt should be.

This was his fault, really. He’d been caught unaware on his nightly patrol. Maybe he'd grown complacent. He'd gone out tonight expecting to dispatch a few newly-turned bloodsuckers, maybe take out a ghoul or two. He'd never encountered such an old vampire so far from any known nest. Creatures that lived to this age rarely ventured above the ground.

And, yet, here it was, trying to rip his armor open and eat him.

So, yeah, Tony Stark was going to die. He'd just never expected it to happen on a fucking Wednesday, of all days.

He'd just decided to initiate the suit's self-destruct sequence, when a dark shape suddenly hurtled out of the darkness and slammed into the vampire, releasing a shower of orange sparks. A wolf, Tony realized, when his eyes had adjusted to the dark once again. A huge black wolf, as large as a man. A wolf that now had its jaws locked around the grub-like vampire's white neck. The two of them scrambled on the ground in a frantic struggle. The vampire let out a shriek that made Tony's ears ring and clawed at the furred body. Orange sparks crackled and hissed and formed sigils in the air.

Tony could only stare. Magic? _What the hell?_

The wolf thrashed, trying to rip the vampire's head off, Tony realized. But this bloodsucker was strong. Probably stronger than any were could ever be. More magic flashed bright and faded and the wolf let out a cry like a wounded dog. The vampire had managed to pull one of the wolf's front legs to its mouth and bite down. The wolf whimpered but its jaws stayed locked on the vamp.

Tony scrambled back. _Fuck_ , if that vampire broke free, he was next...

He had to act before that happened. Not enough power left in the arc reactor to produce a photon blast, but his nanotech could still make a weapon. He staggered to his feet just as the long blade finished forming on his right gauntlet.

The wolf was in trouble now. He gave the vampire's neck another desperate shake, but Tony could see he was weakening. Blood flew from the wound on the wolf's leg and spattered the dirt around them. The huge body was now covered in wounds, sides heaving. Whatever magical protection were on it had failed completely. Either way, the fight would be over soon. The vampire's screams had turned into a high-pitched gurgle.

Tony approached the battle as close as he dared, blade ready. "Let go," he muttered.

Intelligent blue-green eyes turned toward him.

Tony nodded at the wolf. "Let go. I've got him."

The wolf leaped away just as the vampire surged up, shrieking.

Tony swung his sword as hard as he could and sent the vampire's head flying off into the bushes. Black ichor pulsed from the neck and the body slumped to the ground, shuddering in the dirt.

" _Holy shit_ ," Tony breathed. He sliced off a still-twitching arm and then a leg for good measure. The body finally lay still.

Fucking undead.

"Friday, damage report." He needed a few moments to get his breath back.

"Down to ten percent power, Boss. Nano particle population at sixty-seven percent. And you’ve suffered multiple contusions and a possible concussion. You should have that looked at."

Tony smiled. "Will do." It would be simple enough to ask Bruce to check him out when he got home. But the smile faded when he remembered he wasn't done here. Not yet. " _Fuck_ ," he muttered. He watched as nanites containing a silver-copper alloy streamed down and coated the blade. But he'd suddenly lost the stomach for killing.

"You all right, Boss?"

"Yeah, Fri. I'm fine. Which way did he go?"

"Tracking heat signature." The map appeared on his screen seconds later, blue line snaking erratically deeper into the forest.

The wolf hadn't gone far. And he wasn't a wolf anymore.

Tony found the naked man collapsed in a hollow formed by the roots of a tree, one hand wrapped around a terrible wound in his forearm, pale skin covered in blood and dirt. The man's eyes—blue-green and still sharp, but wet with pain—tracked Tony's movements warily as he approached.

With his black, silver-streaked hair and neatly-trimmed goatee, he looked more like a college professor than a man who had been an animal just a few minutes ago. Tony had never seen a were who looked so... controlled. He'd never met a were who could use magic. And he'd certainly never had a were save his life.

The man's eyes flicked down to the blade, then back up to Tony's face. He nodded, almost to himself. "Do it," he rasped. "Just"—he swallowed hard—"be quick. _Please_." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree trunk, exposing his throat.

Tony raised the blade slowly. Werewolves were vermin, nothing more than dangerous animals. They served the dark. He'd sworn an oath to eradicate their kind. He'd killed dozens of them without a second thought. But tonight...

" _Fuck_ ," he muttered again. He tapped the nano housing unit and the blade receded. He wasn't in any danger. Not right now.

Tony considered the defenseless were before him. "Why did you save my life?"

The man opened his eyes again and his brows drew together in confusion. "I don't... I don't know," he mumbled. "I just... I wanted... to." His eyes started to slip closed.

" _Shit_." Tony grabbed for the man just as he slid sideways. Now that his hand wasn't covering up that vampire bite, Tony could see it was bad. Dark blood seeped from the wound in slow pulses. "Friday? Vitals?"

"Heart rate at one-hundred sixty beats per minute. Respiration at forty breaths per minute. Blood pressure eighty over fifty-three and dropping fast. Dangerously low levels, even for a were. I also detect traces of vampire venom. That can be fatal to weres if left untreated."

For the second time that night, he didn't think, he just gathered the unconscious man in his arms and took off, clearing the tops of the trees and heading for home.

"Friday, estimated flight time to base?"

"Approximately seven minutes at your current speed." Friday actually hesitated before continuing. "May I ask, Boss? What do you plan to do with him once you get there?" It was highly illegal to harbor or aid a sub-natural creature like a were. And both he and his A.I. knew it.

Tony sighed. "I have no fucking clue."

 

***

 

"What the fuck, Tony?"

Tony glared at Bruce and adjusted the ice pack on the back of his head. "You've already asked me that," he grumbled. "Several times." Damn, his head hurt.

"Well, let me rephrase the question then...” Bruce continued. “What are you planning to do with him? How long are you planning to keep him here? What the hell are we gonna do if SHIELD finds out? And what the fuck do we tell everyone else?" He ticked each point off on his fingers.

Those were all very important questions. Tony had already lost track. "I don't know yet," he answered honestly. "He saved my life. I want to know why."

Bruce threw up his hands.

Tony turned around so he could stare at the creature in the isolation room. He was still unconscious, but had started to stir within the last few minutes. Tied to the bed with soft restraints at his wrists and ankles. A control collar around his neck to prevent any shapeshifting. And still naked, though Bruce had thrown a sheet over him for decency's sake. The wounds he'd suffered last night had already healed, leaving smooth, clean skin behind. All except that vampire bite. Bruce had neutralized the toxin and closed it up with some sutures, but that was going to leave a scar.

He had an odd assortment of tattoos on his body—mostly his chest. Some magical language that Tony wasn't familiar with. He'd snapped a few photos to send to Wanda. She might know what they meant.

The were was definitely handsome, Tony thought, in an odd sort of way. Neck too long, maybe. But those eyes were something else.

"This isn't fair to him, either. Keeping him like this."

Tony looked up. He'd been caught staring, obviously. He cleared his throat and turned around.

Bruce's expression was soft. Weres and their treatment were a sore point for him, Tony knew. The guy had gone through a lot to come up with a working vaccine. "You know what you have to do. We can't just let him go."

Tony frowned. That wasn't an option. Not right now. "When have I ever done what I'm supposed to?"

Bruce smiled. "Never."

At that moment their prisoner woke up in earnest and immediately started thrashing on the bed.

" _Damn it_ ," Bruce muttered. "Let me get something to knock him out with." He jogged back to one of the supply cabinets and started rummaging inside.

Tony took advantage of the distraction to throw the ice pack on a table and enter the access code that lowered the energy shield. He stepped into the room.

"Tony, don't!" Bruce hesitated on the threshold, probably trying to decide if he should sedate their prisoner or Tony. "Damn it, you idiot. If—"

"Relax. It's fine. I'm vaccinated." Tony walked slowly into the room. "You can close that, by the way. I'm not in any danger." He wasn't sure how he knew that, but he did.

"Tony," Bruce warned. But then Tony could feel the familiar rush of air as the field closed behind him.

The closer he got to the bed, the more agitated the werewolf became. Tony could see his throat working as he swallowed over and over again, the way his chest heaved with each breath. He pulled hard at the restraints, but a were was no stronger than a normal human and Tony knew they would hold. The collar would keep him from shifting and slipping out. He wasn't dangerous right now.

"Hey," Tony said.

The man met his eyes for a moment and then turned to look at the wall again. Tony could see him shaking.

His father had always told him that understanding your enemy was the key to defeating him. And Tony had taken that advice to heart, had studied sub-naturals, had come to understand their ways and customs. Their behavior. It gave him an edge against them, knowing their strengths and their weaknesses. Not just physically, but mentally.

Werewolves were a mess of conflicting instincts, he knew—that animal fear and desire and need constantly at war with human rationality. They were always fighting themselves. It was what made them so dangerous, so unpredictable.

But this man, the man who had saved him last night... Tony recognized a panic attack when he saw one—was, unfortunately, intimately acquainted with them. And the trigger for this one was obvious. He'd read enough animal behavior books to know that a wolf trapped on his back and surrounded by enemies was a dead wolf. But a wolf on his back surrounded by his pack...

He had a crazy idea. And his crazy ideas usually worked. _Usually_... 

Tony reached his hand out slowly toward the man on the bed—calm, steady movements. Those amazing blue-green eyes darted around frantically—to his hand, the walls, Tony's face. The man started struggling in earnest against the restraints, bucking on the bed. A low growl rumbled from his chest.

"Tony, what the fuck are you doing?" Bruce's concerned voice came through the intercom.

"You've already asked me that. Several times," Tony reminded him, keeping his voice calm. "Just trust me."

Tony stepped closer and reached down toward the man. "Just trust me," he repeated, and then reached over to rest his palm on his chest. His skin was much warmer than a normal human's—smooth and hot, the growl a steady vibration beneath Tony's fingers. He hadn't been bitten yet, so that was a good sign. Tony took a deep breath and pressed down. Not hard, but enough to add a solid, grounding weight. Either this would work, or it wouldn't...

The growl tapered off and the man went absolutely still. Tony could see him blinking at the wall, a look of surprise on his face.

So far, so good. "You're okay. I'm not going to hurt you," Tony murmured. He pressed a little harder, maybe pushing his luck, but the guy responded by taking a shaky breath and relaxing further. Tony could feel his breathing finally becoming deeper. The rapid thud of the heart under his hand slowing.

The two of them just stayed that way for a while. Tony felt his own pulse slowing as the tension in the room dissipated, adrenaline ramping down. It struck him then, how weird this all was. He'd never really touched a were before this moment, he realized. And last night there had been several layers of nano particles between the two of them. He'd killed them, sure. But that was always at a distance, impersonal. This was a different experience entirely. Warm skin beneath his hand, feeling the other man's heart beating, his breathing.

Tony took advantage of their proximity to study the man's tattoos again. Blue lines—some old and faded, some newer. All forming intricate designs or runes and symbols that Tony didn't recognize. Not surprising—magic wasn't his thing. Bruce had mentioned they were probably protective spells, but he wasn't an expert either. They'd need to have Wanda take a look if they wanted to decipher them.

Movement under his fingers brought Tony back to the present. The were closed his eyes and huffed out a laugh. "This is awkward," he said.

Tony had to agree with that. Definitely awkward. He lifted his hand and stepped back, putting a little more distance between them. "Done freaking out?"

"Yes." The man kept glancing over at him, then looking away. Tony knew eye-contact was hard for weres—an intimate gesture reserved for others of their kind. Those they were close to. Obviously, the two of them weren't quite there yet.

"What's your name?"

The guy broke the 'no eye-contact' rule to give Tony a scathing look. "You think I'd tell you that? You know I can't." Everyone knew sub-naturals could be bound by magic using their true names. A name was a precious thing, closely guarded.

Tony shrugged. "Okay. Fair point. Why did you save my life?"

The man lifted an arch eyebrow. "I might ask you the same question."

Tony crossed his arms. "I asked first."

"Touché," the werewolf muttered, and the faintest smile played on his lips. "Very well." He sighed and turned to face the wall again. "Last night, I was tracking the vampire that attacked you. My... colleagues and I had destroyed its nest earlier. That old one slipped away from us during the ensuing fight. I came upon the two of you and saw an opportunity to finish the job."

There were a ton of interesting tidbits in that. Particularly the fact that werewolves were teaming up to destroy vampires. During the wars, vamps and weres had fought together as uneasy allies. He'd heard rumors that their truce had broken down. Unless... Tony realized the guy hadn't actually mentioned a pack. He'd said 'colleagues'. Interesting word choice. Either way, there was some shit going down in the world of the sub-natural.

Also, a lot of that story was bullshit.

"So, you weren't actually saving me? Just tying up a loose end?"

"Exactly."

"Here's what I don't get..." Tony strolled over to the nearest wall so he could lean casually against it. "We're enemies, right? You know who I am. You know what I do for a living."

The guy nodded cautiously.

"So why didn't you just wait until that sucker finished me off? Kill two birds with one stone?"

The were opened his mouth. "I..." he started, before frowning. The same look of confusion that Tony remembered from last night crept over his face.

Tony waited. "Don't have anything to say to that, do you?" Apparently, this would remain a mystery to both of them.

The guy gave Tony a baleful glare and tugged on the restraints. "What are you going to do with me?"

Tony opened his mouth, then shut it, caught off guard by the change in subject. It was a good question, though.

What the fuck was he going to do? He still had no idea. What was the endgame here? The responsible thing—and the only legal option—would be to neutralize the threat. If Rhodey or Steve or those militant assholes at SHIELD found out he'd saved a were and brought him here, there'd be hell to pay. But how could he kill a man who'd saved his life? A man whose life he'd saved in return. A man he'd just rescued from a panic attack? A man he'd had a conversation with?

He looked back up just as it dawned on him that he'd trapped himself. He'd trapped both of them.

The were gave him a knowing smile.

Tony nodded at him. "Touché."

If they were going to have a serious conversation, he needed more coffee. He rubbed the back of his head. And maybe some Tylenol. He pointed at the guy on the bed. "Don't go anywhere. We need to talk. But first, I'm going to get you some clothes. And some food. Are you hungry?"

"Starving." There was that faint smile again. "And, before you ask... yes, I'm a vegetarian."

Tony snorted.  _Figures._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait—this chapter fought me the whole way... Tony and Stephen will see some action soon, but they needed to talk first. And I needed to info-dump ;)

"Why are you making so many sandwiches?" Tony asked.

While he'd been fiddling with the coffee maker and dry-swallowing three aspirin—because the coffee wasn't quite ready yet and water was for pussies—Bruce had been busy. There were at least six sandwiches stacked on the plate by the time Tony turned back around.

"He's going to be starving," Bruce explained. "Weres have a really high resting metabolic rate. Plus, he lost a lot of blood last night and he's been healing from the venom. That takes additional energy. So I made a lot of food. And this one"—Bruce held up one of the tomato and cheese sandwiches—"is for me, because I'm also starving." He took a deliberate bite and chewed angrily.

Tony sighed. He knew Bruce was still pissed at him. But they'd been friends for a long time. This, too, would pass. "Look. I know I put you on the spot here. But I can fix this. Trust me."

"How, Tony? You know how I feel about this... It's just... It's messed up."

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. This damn headache had now migrated into his eyeballs...

He knew what Bruce meant, of course. It was one thing to kill in the heat of battle. To take out weres and vamps that directly threatened human settlements. To track down the ones that attacked innocent people. It was quite another to kill in cold blood, in the bright clinical light of the lab. They'd done it before, back when the fate of humanity had hung in the balance, and it wasn't something either of them wanted to go back to.

The coffee was finally ready, so he shuffled back over to the pot and poured himself a cup. It tasted like absolute shit, but was also the best thing in the world. He offered the pot to Bruce. "Coffee?"

"No thanks. My blood pressure is already high enough."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Relax. I've got an idea, but I need to talk to the guy first."

"Fine. Just... don't get too attached."

With that ominous warning, Bruce let Tony back into the isolation room, laden with sandwiches, a bottle of water, and some folded clothes he'd stolen from Steve's room, because there was no way his own pants were going to fit this guy. But then he was confronted with a new problem.

Tony stopped and looked around. "Uh... you can't eat while you're tied down."

"Yes. That might be an issue," the were said, voice dry with amusement.

 _Fuck_. He might be a genius, but he also hadn't slept for forty-eight hours. Tony set the plate and clothes down on the empty lab table. "Bruce," he called over his shoulder. "I'm going to untie him. Don't freak out and hose us down."

He took a careful step toward the bed. "I don't have to remind you not to try anything, right? I really, _really_ don't want to kill you, especially since I feel like we're starting to form a connection here, but I won't hesitate if you turn feral."

"I won't. I understand."

The guy sounded so reasonable but he was still, technically, a monster. A monster Tony was about to unleash in a locked room. A room he was also trapped in.

He moved to the end of the bed—well out of biting range—and unstrapped the guy's ankles first. More tattoos on his feet, even the soles, Tony noticed. He wondered what they could possibly be for. The werewolf was absolutely motionless on the bed while his feet were being untied. But when Tony reached out tentatively for the restraint on the guy's wrist, a sudden deep growl startled him.

Tony jumped back and raised his hand. A swarm of nanites formed a gauntlet around his fist.

"Tony?" Bruce's nervous voice over the intercom. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just hold off." He definitely didn't want the room flooded with colloidal silver just yet. Stuff was a bitch to wash off. Also, fatal to at least one of them.

The growling had stopped as soon as Tony backed off. Now the werewolf actually looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I... It's just... your smell. You're stressed out and it's stressing me out." He took a deep breath. "It's hard sometimes... to control. And I haven't been this close to a human in a long time." He glanced up at Tony and away again. "I'm not used to the way you smell."

 _Right_. Tony kept forgetting these guys could smell fear. "My fault," he said quietly. "Just... maybe use words next time. You can tell me if I'm about to do something stupid and I'll stop."

The were looked surprised for just a moment, but he nodded.

"Sorry, Bruce!" Tony called, he directed the nanites back to the housing on his chest. "Misunderstanding. Interspecies communication breakdown." Poor Bruce was probably stroking out by now.

All right... _Calm, peace, zen, free love..._ Good thoughts. He'd tried yoga once—to impress some redhead—and it wasn't for him. But there were other ways to win people over. Tony Stark had yet to meet anyone—man, woman, or machine—who was immune to his charms. He gave the guy his most disarming smile. "So you're saying I smell bad?"

The were still wouldn't quite look him in the eye. "Not... _bad_. Not exactly..." And now there was definitely an attractive flush creeping up that pale neck. The guy didn't look defensive anymore, just... flustered.

 _Interesting_. So he smelled _not bad_ , then. And either the flirting or the question about smells had made the werewolf shy. Tony would have to file that bit of information away for later. "As long as I don't smell good enough to eat," he teased.

That earned a small smirk, at least. "Vegetarian, remember?"

Tony smiled back. "We're good now, right?"  

And the guy actually held his gaze for more than a few seconds. "Yeah, we're good." 

Who said flirting couldn't fix everything?

Tony reached down again and unstrapped one wrist—no growling this time—then leaned over for the other. On impulse, he trailed his fingers down the guy's arm after freeing him—a gentle touch. The were shuddered and closed his eyes. He didn't look distressed anymore, Tony thought. He looked... maybe just a little _aroused_. And that was also interesting. Werewolves were known to be incredibly tactile, but only with others of their own kind. Humans just didn't get close to weres. Not close enough to touch, anyway.

Tony moved to the other side of the room to give him some space. To give them both space.

The guy sat up, moving slowly and keeping the sheet carefully over his lap. He ran his fingers over the stitches in his forearm then met Tony's eyes briefly before looking away again. "Thank you," he said.

Tony hadn't noticed before, but he had interesting scars running along the backs of his fingers. Surgical scars, he thought—they were too deliberate to be anything else.

"Happened before I was infected." The were must have seen him staring.

"How?"

The guy hesitated. "I can't tell you that."

There was undoubtedly something to that story that would lead them to this guy's true name. Wouldn't be too tricky to figure out, despite the loss of records during the wars. His teams had been able to recover about seventy percent of the data that had been online before the fall.

Bruce's warning about getting attached had given Tony the start of an idea. Most sub-naturals had once been human, but now they were magical creatures. And, therefore, they were subject to the rules of magic. The only things you needed to bind them were a rudimentary understanding of sorcery and a true name. During the war, bound sub-naturals had been coerced to act as spies for their side or to spill information. Some had been used to carry bombs or toxins into nests and dens. The practice had fallen out of favor due the potential for abuse. Binding was now, technically, illegal in the state of New York. But a trivial thing like a state law had never stopped him before. He was probably breaking at least seven right now. Getting this guy's name could be useful. Another thing to consider for later.

The were was watching him intently, like he knew exactly what Tony was thinking. Tony cleared his throat. "The collar stays on, I'm afraid," he said.

The man nodded. "That's fine. And thanks for these." He pulled the pile of clothes toward him and started sorting through it.

He was terribly polite for a ravenous beast, Tony thought, and much more confident, now that he wasn't trapped on his back. He watched while the guy pulled an old t-shirt over his head. Tony had already seen him naked—damn nice body, too—but it felt weird to watch another man dress, so he turned his back to give him some privacy. It was also, he realized, another expression of trust. And something he would never have considered doing before he lost his mind last night.

"I'm decent now."

Tony turned back around. The were was pulling off that cultured, college professor look again. Except for the control collar around his neck, he looked like he should be listening to NPR and sipping a latté instead of sitting in an isolation room. Every were he'd seen before had been filthy and wild-eyed in their human forms—nails long and dirty, hair greasy and unkempt. That was only to be expected. He knew most of them stayed in their animal forms all the time—it was just an easier way to survive once they'd been pushed away from society. This guy was so far from that, it was hard to believe he wasn't human.

Especially when he picked up a sandwich and inspected it, presumably to make sure there was no meat inside.

Tony watched him eat. Noted the way he kept his movements slow and deliberate—probably to avoid spooking the skittish humans. And yet his eyes were constantly moving around the room, watching Tony, checking on Bruce's position outside the glass, back down to his food. Despite the control, it was obvious that the guy was really hungry—maybe not literally starving—but he chewed and swallowed about as fast as he could get the food to go down his throat.

Tony let him eat without interruption for a while. By the time the were reached for a third sandwich, he'd stopped stuffing his face.

"If you can't give me your name... At least tell me what I should call you," Tony said.

The werewolf took another bite and chewed while he thought it over. "My first name is Stephen."

Tony blinked. _Stephen_. That felt right—he wasn't sure how he knew that, but he did. "That's the real deal, isn't it? Your name?"

"Yes."

"Why would you do that?" Even giving out one part of a name was a big deal for sub-naturals—too easy to figure out the rest. It just wasn't done.

"I trust you. I'm not sure why, so don't ask me again. I don't have a good answer. I've learned to just... follow my instincts."

"Was that supposed to be a wolf joke?"

Stephen smiled. "Maybe."

Tony turned around to hide his own smile. Bruce made a 'get on with it' hand gesture at him through the glass. Tony rolled his eyes and turned back around.

Time to get serious. "So... we need to talk."

"Obviously." There was that playful chiding tone again. Maybe Stephen was also a smart ass, as well as a werewolf. Tony raised an eyebrow, but chose not to engage. They'd have time to flirt later.

"Last night, when you were trying to tear that bloodsucker's head off..." 

"Yes?"

"I saw magic. A kind of magic I haven't seen since the war." He remembered when he was a kid, his mother's friend—he couldn't even remember her name now—performing tricks for him, making an apple disappear and reappear in a little ring of golden sparks. Video footage from the front lines of the war. Teams of Sorcerers battling the enemy—their spells were all made from the same golden energy on a grand scale. No one used magic like that anymore.

"That's right."

"How?" he demanded.

"I'm a Sorcerer."

" _Bullshit!_ "

Stephen shrugged stiffly and took another bite, eyes downcast. He'd gone still and guarded again as soon as the conversation turned serious. Tony knew he was the source of that tension, but he didn't care. They needed to talk.

"There are no Sorcerers. They all died in the wars."

Magic had been humanity's first line of defense against the dark. And it had failed. Tony remembered the day they'd almost lost everything, watching it on the news—the fall of Kamar-taj and then the Sanctums, the barriers between the dimensions breaking down and letting in the dark. Then the world was overrun and there were no more news reports. Not for a long time.

There were still people out there working on new magical theories, but Classical Sorcery was dead. Magic wasn't going to save them. Tech was the answer. Tech had won the war against the dark.

"Dimensional magic is defunct. Tech killed it— _my_ tech. No one even trains in that field anymore. Every practitioner was killed over thirty years ago."

"We're not all dead," Stephen said quietly. "I studied at Kamar-Taj. I fought in the wars. I watched thousands fall to the dark."

" _Bullshit_ ," Tony muttered again, but he wasn't so sure now. He paced from one side of the small room to the other. How could dimensional magic still work? It made no sense—the tech shield should have made it impossible. He'd designed it himself, tested every parameter. The fact that they'd successfully sealed off the the world from other dimensions and won the war was proof that it worked. And, yet, he'd seen something last night. Something that broke every known law of physics. If what Stephen was saying was true, it could be huge.

Stephen had stopped eating and was just watching him, eyes wary.

"My Shield works. Energy can't get through. _Nothing_ can get through. So tell me how you can make dimensional magic work when the laws of the fucking universe say that it can't." He wasn't trying to be confrontational, but he hated not knowing the answer. Or even what the damn question was...

Stephen shook his head. "I don't know how it works, but it does. Not like it used to—I can't draw power like I could before the Shield went up. I've had to modify my spells to work with other sources of energy."

Tony stopped pacing to stare at him. "Like what?"

"Like trees."

"You use black magic?" Maybe that came out sounding too much like an accusation, but sucking the life out of something to make magic was a vampire specialty.

Stephen grimaced and scratched under the collar. "It's just a tool. Like any other. My wards are designed to draw supplementary power from trees, but not enough to damage them."

That sounded so environmentally friendly. Tony wasn't quite convinced. 

But they weren't going to get anywhere like this, he realized, not when they were squaring off against each other. _Body language_ , Tony remembered, _think like a wolf_. He stopped pacing and deliberately uncrossed his arms, forced himself to take a deep breath. "How old are you?"

Stephen relaxed almost immediately. He took another bite of his sandwich. "That's a rude question," he said, but Tony could tell he was amused.

"I'm going to guess... forty-one."

"I'll be fifty-eight next month."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "You look good." That was the truth.

"Thanks. One of the few benefits of the virus. Eternal youth. Or... eternal middle age, in my case." He shoved the last bit of sandwich into his mouth.

They'd have to come back to the magic issue. Maybe this guy was a Sorcerer, and maybe he wasn't. Tony had more immediate concerns. "I want to know why you were out hunting vamps last night."

Stephen looked longingly at the empty plate, as if hoping another sandwich would appear. "It's complicated."

"Yeah. I got that."

Stephen shot an annoyed look at him. "There are... different factions among us. Among the weres and vampires and ghouls. Some groups co-exist peacefully with others and some... don't.

"The vampire nest that we destroyed last night belongs to a network controlled by an old Queen. She's been in power since before the wars. Long before. And her group has grown quite strong over the years since the dark lost. She and her hive have been enemies of my group for quite a long time. Recently, they've been building up their numbers—stealing humans from smaller towns and farming colonies—and now they've started expanding into our territory. They've attacked humans from the towns within our borders twice in as many nights. Which, I've gathered, is why you were there."

"That's right."

The war had decimated the country's suburban populations. And almost everyone left alive after the initial attacks had fled to heavily-defended cities. Most people had chosen to stay there after the war ended. Apart from huge, government-funded and protected farming communes, only a a few suburban towns existed. Now, years later, people were moving back out, away from the cities. But it was still dangerous to live on the edges of human society, much easier to become a snack for a bloodsucker. 

"They've attacked our people as well," Stephen said, "tried to steal children. And we don't appreciate the attention they draw to us by preying on humans.

"Well... we don't appreciate the 'preying on humans' part."

Stephen glared at him. "We're not all the same, you know. We have different ideals and different goals. Not all of us are monsters. My people are not your enemies."

"And what do your people want?"

"Peace. We want to live our lives without fear. We want our children to grow up without having to worry about being hunted. Without having to worry about people like you."

Tony swallowed hard. "I've never... I've never killed children." He hadn't, and he never would. That was where he'd drawn a line.

"Are you sure about that? Your weapon designs are produced and sold the world over. The standard equipment for hunting weres are all Stark Industry products. I've destroyed hundreds of weapons, myself, all of them manufactured by your company."

"That's not..." Tony was going to say 'fair'. But maybe it was. He'd been thinking more and more lately about his legacy. How the tech— _the weapons_ —he'd designed to win the war were being used today. And, more often than not, he'd come to the conclusion that his legacy sucked.

There were few rules about killing sub-naturals. It was illegal to kill weres in their dens or hunt them during the breeding season. But that was the limit of the protection offered to them. And that was only amended after some terrible photos showing the corpses of were-children—casualties of a raid on a large den near a commune—had surfaced. Vampires and ghouls could be killed anytime, anywhere.

The issue hadn't come up during the war, when every sub-natural had been an adult, and newly-infected. Now they were having children, and those children were growing up and having their own children. Human society the world over had no idea how to deal with their growing populations.

Stephen said, "Our children spend their lives in fear, hiding in the dark. Because of people like you."

Tony turned around to face him again. "I thought you trusted me?"

"I trust that you won't kill me right now, while I'm defenseless. While I'm your prisoner." Stephen's eyes softened slightly. "I know you have a conscience, Stark. But don't tell me you would hesitate to kill me or my kind when you're out stalking our forest in your suit. As long as you view my people as monsters, we will always be enemies."

Tony had nothing to say to that right now, so he stared at the blank, white wall, instead. At least the wall was simple...

Stephen finally broke the silence. "What are you going to do with me?"

Tony rubbed at the back of his head. _Damn_ , he was tired. Probably, too tired to consider life and death decisions right now. "I don't know yet."

Stephen tilted his head and his eyes narrowed. Tony knew a thinking face when he saw one. The guy had just come up with a plan.

"What?" Tony asked.

"If I tell you my true name, and allow you to bind me, will you let me go?"

"Uh..." _Wait. What?_ "Why would you do that?" Tony wasn't about to admit that _that_ was exactly what he'd been planning to do.

Stephen shrugged. "Because you'll figure out my name soon enough anyway. And I know you'll use it to bind me, because that would be the responsible thing to do. Short of killing me. And because I need you to trust me. Just as I trust you. If I let you bind me, you know I'll be harmless to humans. Which I already am, so it makes no difference to me." He hesitated. "And because my people need me. They're probably out there right now, risking their lives searching for me. I need to get back to them."

"You might be a spy for the dark." Tony knew it wasn't true even before he said it. 

Stephen chuckled and picked up the bottle of water. "And what would I say? That I saw the inside of a laboratory? That I saved the life of Tony Stark? The man who invented the Shield that holds back the dark? That Tony Stark saved my life? That you fed me sandwiches? Do you think that admitting to all of that won't cause just as much trouble for me? Anyway, you can just order me to stay silent and I'd be bound to do it."

Tony thought about that while Stephen drank. He _could_ order him to stay silent. But he could do so much more than that. A bound sub-natural could be ordered to do anything if the bond was strong enough. Stephen was basically offering Tony his life. He shook his head. "I still don't know why you'd make a deal like that."

"I think..." Stephen looked down at his empty water bottle, before setting it aside on the table. "I think fate has brought us together for a reason. I followed that vampire to that clearing, I saved your life—and you saved mine—for a purpose. I don't know what that purpose is yet, but I trust in the Vishanti to show me the way."

Tony frowned. "I don't believe in all that hocus-pocus bullshit."

"I believe in it. So you don't have to."

"That... makes no fucking sense."

Stephen just smiled serenely at him.

Tony groaned. Why did he feel like the Vishanti or whatever were leading them straight into trouble? "I need to consult with my... colleagues first. I'll let you know what we decide."


	3. Chapter 3

"I think this is a good idea," Steve said.

Bruce did a double-take. "Am I...? Did I fall into a parallel dimension and wake up in bizarro world? Did you just say ' _I think this_ _is a good idea'?_ "

Tony was still trying to process what he'd just heard, too. "I think he did."

"He definitely said it." Wanda gave Steve her sweetest smile.

Steve blew out a long breath. He was used to being heckled by the team and he took it like a champ. "Look, guys... the damage is done. At this point, the best course of action will be to take advantage of the situation. He could be a valuable source of information for us. And if what he says is true, and he's a Sorcerer... then he might become more than that."

"You're awfully eager to give this guy the benefit of the doubt," Tony said. "Why are you so sure this isn't a set up?" He didn't believe it was a set up either, but he wanted to make sure he hadn't missed anything. And Rogers sometimes—okay, _always_ —considered options more carefully than he did before jumping in.

Steve hesitated for a long time, and Tony knew he was considering his next words carefully. "I've been out there on the front lines for a long time, and... Let's just say, not everything is as black and white as it seems. I'm not so quick to pass judgement anymore. Because, sometimes, it's not obvious who the enemy is."

No, it wasn't always obvious... Tony swiped through the files on the holographic display, pictures of Doctor Stephen Strange dressed to the nines in a tux at some awards ceremony, a small head shot on an article about neuroregeneration, a short report about his accident. That confident smile, those eyes. Definitely the same guy. He'd somehow gone from neurosurgeon, to Sorcerer, to werewolf. Hell of a life journey...

Tony really wanted to talk to Rhodey, but that would have to wait until Stephen was safely released back into the wild. Steve was a decent, if less fun, stand-in.

Steve shrugged. "Anyway, my gut's telling me this guy isn't a spy. They'd never send in someone who was so easy to identify. And if you wanted to know if he's working for the dark, all you'd have to do is bind him and ask. He wouldn't be able to lie about it."

Tony nodded, still thinking. "Wanda, do you think you can do it? Bind him, I mean?"

"Of course. It's simple." 

That was too easy. Tony eyed her suspiciously. Wanda wasn't usually so cavalier about using magic, especially when it came to rituals and spells involving people. In fact, everything about this meeting was going so smoothly, it was actually setting him on edge. He shifted in his chair. "What do you need for that?"

"Just his name and the person I'm binding him to." She nodded at Tony. "Which I presume is you."

"That's right."

"I can do it. But..."

 _Here comes the fun part_ , Tony thought.

"The energy of the bond flows both ways." Wanda twirled a gold and ruby ring around and around her finger. "There might be some consequences for you—for both of you—that I can't predict."

"You mean you don't know everything? I'm shocked," Tony teased.

Wanda shot him a dirty look. "I've never done this before. I'm just letting you know that I can't know exactly what will happen once I make this bond."

Silence fell over the conference room. Tony took a sip of his coffee. _Cold_. He grimaced and set it back down. He couldn't know exactly what would happen either, but that was just the way his life was now.

Bruce cleared his throat. "You said you saw him using dimensional magic when he was fighting that vampire?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah." That impossible feat was still bothering him, too.

Bruce and Steve exchanged a look. Steve said, "You were down by Greenfield last night, right?"

"That's right." Tony knew where this was going. He shook his head. "I've already checked the data feeds from the reactor there. It's the first thing I did when I got back. No glitches, no anomalies, nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing from any of the other reactor stations. The Shield is working."

"Have you heard from Rhodes? Anything unusual happening down there?"

"Some increases recently in the number of vampire attacks, so maybe the vamps are hungrier... Stephen mentioned a queen might be making a move to grab some new territory. But nothing else. No attempts to breech SHIELD's security. Rhodey's got it under control."

Steve still looked doubtful. "I don't like coincidences."

Tony shrugged. He didn't like it either, but he wasn't going to admit that in front of the others.

"Before you let this guy go, I suggest we also tag him with some sort of tracking device," Steve added. "It might be useful if we could find him again when we wanted to. Especially if something's brewing in that area. And magic has never been that accurate at pinpointing locations. No offense, Wanda."

She tapped her ring on the table. "None taken." 

Tony glanced around at the other faces in the room, before pushing away from the table and standing up. "Good. Fine. It's settled. Now, let's go do some magic." 

 

*** 

 

The magic was disappointingly anti-climactic. 

Wanda drew some symbol in her special mud on Tony's forehead. And one on Stephen's—some kind of squiggle with a circle around it. Tony had to resist the urge to check in a mirror to see if they were the same. Or to wipe it off—that shit itched as it dried. Then Stephen had to stand in a little circle of salt she'd made on the floor of the isolation room. 

Tony had been worried the process would stress the werewolf out, but he just seemed interested and slightly amused, standing quietly while Wanda fluttered around him like some dramatic bohemian bird.

When Wanda flicked her hands out and set the salt alight with swirling red fire, Stephen snorted and muttered, "Chaos magic." Wanda spat something back in another language that made Stephen chuckle and shake his head. And Tony got the distinct impression he was caught in the middle of a magical pissing contest he didn't understand. 

A few more low words from Wanda, and the ceremony was apparently over. Tony didn't feel any different. 

"Did we just get married?"

Both the witch and the werewolf turned to glare at him. Tony sighed. No one appreciated his humor. "So... how does this work?"

Wanda crossed her arms. "Tell him to do something."

Easy enough. Tony turned toward Stephen and considered him for a moment. _What to do..._ "Sit on the floor," Tony said. 

Stephen just grinned at him. "No, thanks. I'm good."

Even Wanda couldn't quite hide her smirk. "You need to use his full name and make it a command. Put some energy into the words. You have to mean it. Magic is about intention."

"Magic is about intention..." Tony muttered. That didn't even make sense. He shifted on his feet, then—in his most dramatic voice—said, "Stephen Strange, sit on the floor," all the while thinking, _please_ _do it, just sit on the damn floor_. He felt like a fucking idiot. 

But Stephen abruptly dropped down and sat neatly with his legs crossed. Right in the middle of the floor. He looked around the room and then up at Tony as if confused about how he'd gotten there.

"It works," Wanda said. Tony could detect more than a hint of smugness in her voice.

"Or he's a good actor," Tony pointed out.

"I'm not a good actor," Stephen said. "Can you tell me to stand up now?"

That was interesting. Tony walked around him slowly. "You can't just... get up?"

Stephen considered the question for a few seconds. "No. I don't think so."

"Stand up."

He did.

"Wait... I didn't even use your name. Why did that work?"

Stephen made a humming sound and ran a hand over his goatee. "Release from commands must require lower activation energy than commands do."

Wanda nodded in agreement. "That is my thought, as well. Although, the release could also be a command, depending on what exactly was asked. So maybe the energy required depends on both intention and desire."

Stephen nodded, brows furrowed. "Good thought. The incantation didn't specify."

 _Great_ , Tony thought. Magical theory. He preferred working with forces that actually followed the rules of reality, instead of fantasy.

"Give me another command," Stephen said. "And make it more interesting this time." 

 _But not too interesting_ , Tony decided. If he could make the were do anything... "Stephen Strange, transform into a wolf."

A look of confusion passed over Stephen's face. "You know I can't..." But then his eyes glazed over and he grimaced as if in pain. The little activation light on the control collar started blinking red. "I... _can't_ ," he said again, "but I... want to."

Now Tony felt like a total dick. _Shit_ , what was he doing, just casually controlling someone's mind? Even if Stephen had asked for this, it was wrong. "Sorry. You can forget that."

As soon as he said it, Stephen relaxed. The light turned green again. "Interesting," he said.

"You won't be able to make him do something that isn't possible," Wanda explained. "Also, it will be easier to make him do something if he already wants to do it."

Tony nodded. "Lower activation energy, right? Makes sense." _Still_... This was already getting weird, having this sort of power over someone. "Look," Tony started. "I want you to know that this is making me pretty uncomfortable. I don't want to take advantage of this"—he gestured between the two of them—"link between us."

"I trust you won't," Stephen said. "I wouldn't have offered, otherwise." The corner of his mouth twitched up. "Just don't tell me to do anything stupid."

Tony grinned at him. "You know I can't make a promise like that." 

 

***

 

Stephen narrowed his eyes at Bruce. "You smell like a were."

Tony realized this was the first time the two of them had been in the same room without a glass barrier between them. And while Stephen was conscious.

Bruce looked back and forth between Tony and Stephen. "Uh... Yeah, I... had a little accident in the lab a few years ago while I was working on a vaccine."

"Live, attenuated virus?" 

"Close. We were manipulating a genetically-modified version. We thought we'd knocked out the genes responsible for viral replication and some of the... changes it caused. And we had. But because the virus doesn't, uh... follow the rules of this dimension, it was still able to infect me." Bruce pulled on some latex gloves. "I can't change shape like you can. It's just... incredibly painful when I try. But I still have to deal with some of the, uh... mental issues." He cleared his throat. "Do you want any lidocaine before I stab you?"

"Let me see the needle."

Bruce held it up so Stephen could inspect it. "No, thanks," he decided.

Personally, Tony would've probably asked to be knocked out. Damn thing was huge. He made a mental note to work on getting the trackers even smaller. Probably some leeway there.

"Okay. Hold still." Tony watched Bruce swab Stephen's back with alcohol, but he had to avert his eyes when Bruce picked up the syringe. He wasn't squeamish exactly, but he'd never been a fan of watching medical procedures. He looked at Stephen's face instead. 

"Keep your shoulders loose. I'm going to tent your skin so I can get the needle through."

Stephen didn't react much—just a slight flinch and a tightening of his jaw. Tony winced in sympathy.

"Done," Bruce said. He set the syringe back on the tray and stripped his gloves off.

Stephen rolled his shoulders experimentally. "I suppose that's better than a radio collar." He pulled his shirt back on.

"Friday, pull up the data on that tracker." 

"Working on it." A second later, the information was streaming through on his glasses. Vital signs all in the green range, a map of the compound with a flashing blue dot in the medical wing.

"Location of subject?"

"Subject located approximately two feet to the left of you, Boss." Did he detect a hint of amusement in the AI's voice? 

When he looked back up, Bruce and Stephen were staring at him.

"What? I'm just testing it out."

Bruce stepped forward to give Tony a pat on the shoulder and a meaningful look. " _Attached_ ," he whispered ominously.

 

***

 

Darkness fell, and it was finally time to release the werewolf back into the wild. 

Steve recommended keeping Stephen asleep during the trip back so he wouldn't be able to pinpoint the location of the compound. For the second time today, Tony had to agree with him. He'd given Stephen a choice between a drug or a magical command. The Sorcerer picked magic, of course.

It was a beautiful, clear night. Perfect for flying. Tony had considered firing up the helicopter, but the possibility of being detected and questioned by SHIELD was a risk he wasn't willing to take. Not with an unconscious werewolf stowed inside. He'd gone with the suit instead.

He flew low and slow, not sure how resilient the were would be to the cold. Stephen was motionless in his arms during the short flight, head tucked in against the suit, the wind whipping black hair around his face.

"Friday, status?"

Tony didn't have to specify—his A.I. knew exactly who he was asking about. "Vitals stable. Brainwaves consistent with normal sleep patterns."

Well, you couldn't fake that—this bond thing was the real deal, apparently.

He flew until he found a small clearing, near the site of the vampire attack.

Tony set Stephen down gently on the leaves, watched the slow rise and fall of his chest for a few minutes. He took a look around. Trees, bushes, leaves on the ground. _Shadows_. The night seemed peaceful enough, but you could never tell these days, what might be lurking in the dark...

"Friday, scan area for any sub-natural bio signs. Besides, you know," he gestured at Stephen. "Four mile radius."

"None detected."

"Any people around?"

"Negative, Boss."

Seemed safe. Tony made a gesture and dismissed the nanites. As the suit receded around him, the chilly air hit his skin, making him shiver. Time to wake up sleeping beauty. But should he make it a command or just a suggestion? He'd already forgotten that conversation about intention and magical energy. Stephen looked pretty comfortable, like he could happily sleep here in the leaves all night. Better make it a command then, Tony decided. "Stephen Strange, wake up."

The were snorted and rolled over slowly onto his back. One hand came up to rub at his face. "What...?" He mumbled and blinked up at Tony. "Must've worked."

"Like magic."

Stephen climbed carefully to his feet, brushed some leaves off his pants. He took a moment to look around and Tony could see his nostrils flaring—smelling something that he couldn't, no doubt. Then he turned his attention back to Tony. "I guess this is goodbye for now."

"Looks like it," Tony said. 

"Thank you, Tony Stark." Stephen said. He held out a hand. "For sparing my life."

Tony didn't hesitate. He shook the were's hand. "Thanks for saving mine." 

"We'll meet again soon," Stephen said, "I'm sure of it."

"The Vishni or whatever tell you that?"

He smiled. "The _Vishanti_. And, yes, they did."

"Right..." Tony nodded. He stepped back.  _Fuck_. Now that it came down to it, he felt oddly reluctant to let the guy go. Almost... _empty_. 

Stephen's eyes grew soft, as if he could sense what Tony was feeling. "Soon," he promised. 

And with that, he turned away and disappeared into the trees.

 

***

 

The emptiness stayed with him after he returned to the compound.

Bruce wasn't in the medical wing, so Tony tinkered in his own lab for a while, but he didn't accomplish anything of value. His mind was elsewhere. _Distracted_.

 _Shit_. He should've given Stephen some way to contact him. Weres didn't carry phones, as a general rule. Maybe the bond could be modified so they could communicate... He had to resist the urge to call Wanda and ask about that. She was probably sleeping by now.

He sat down at his desk, tapped a screwdriver against the metal. "Friday, pull up the data on that tracker."

"Sure thing, Boss."

Tony waved his hand and projected the output into a holographic display. He sat back in his chair and just watched the blinking blue dot heading west, somewhere out there in the dark. Wherever Stephen was going, he was moving fast. Elevated heart rate and breathing, everything reassuringly in the green. Tony kept the display up while he worked. The blue light, the steady green, were comforting.

Eventually, he couldn't think in a straight line anymore, so he dragged himself out of the lab and up to his room. Could barely muster the energy to kick his shoes off before falling onto the bed, exhausted.

That night, the fucked up nightmares that usually haunted his sleep didn't come. He didn't dream about his parents dying in their wrecked car on a lonely road. He didn't dream about being tortured by monsters in a damp, dark hole.

In this new dream, he was outside, under a bright night sky.

He looked up, blinking. Every star was a tiny sun, the Milky Way a startling blaze of light streaking across the heavens. Too bright. His sensitive eyes watered and he ducked back under the comforting shadows of the trees.

He flew through the forest, feet swift and nearly silent on the ground. Over fallen logs, under low branches. Scents hit his nose as fast as he could identify them: the trail of a buck, the complex smell of an unfamiliar were passing through, the metal and smoke of humans carrying guns, a rabbit's nest, the days-old stink of a ghoul.

And then... the smell of home. He ran faster.

A wall of magic appeared before him, shifting and crackling like the aurora borealis, runes and symbols flashing and disappearing. _Home_. He leaped through the wards and the rustling branches of the trees welcomed him back.

He rushed to the place where the others were. Past sleeping animals—goats and chickens in the barn. Past fields of crops, and outbuildings. And then, suddenly the swiftest of his people were there to greet him—dark and light shapes hurtling out of the shadows. They whined and whimpered in their excitement, leaning their warm bodies against him, surrounding him with the scent of their relief and happiness.

The ones who walked on two legs were slower, but they still came out to say hello.

Cold fingers pushed into the thick fur around his neck, reached up to scratch at that spot behind his ear that was always, infuriatingly, itchy. He groaned in pleasure and pressed against his friend, let the familiar scent of cool, wet leaves and clean dirt wash over him. And, under that, the sharper tang of fresh, warm blood. The unmistakable smell of a vampire.

"Welcome home, Strange," a voice said.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: very, very vague references to past rape/non-con

Tony found himself standing in a clearing under a full autumn moon.

 _Waiting_.

The weather had finally turned cold, threatening the season's first snow. The bare limbs of the trees were pale shapes in the moonlight. To Tony, they looked like old bones. A high wind pushed bright clouds past the moon, but it was calm down here near the ground. Tony watched his breath ghost in the air. Movement at the edge of the trees caught his eye and he turned.

A dark shape separated from the shadows there and slunk across the clearing. A huge, black wolf.

Tony smiled. And relief swept through him like a sip of good whiskey.

Three weeks had passed since he'd last seen Stephen. Tony knew he was fine, due to his very strange dreams— _pun intended_ —and the feeling through the bond that the guy was out there, somewhere, doing whatever werewolves did. But he'd never been able to pinpoint exactly where. The tracker worked only intermittently—when Stephen wanted it to, Tony suspected. And tonight, Stephen wanted to be found.

The wolf approached slowly, until he was standing right in front of Tony. And Tony got the distinct impression that Stephen was inviting him to take a look.

He'd never really had the chance before to study a were in wolf form. Usually, they were too busy hurling themselves at him, snarling and frothing at the mouth. And he was usually too busy trying to kill them.

Stephen looked essentially like he did as a person, Tony thought: controlled and intelligent. He seemed tall for a wolf—he _was_ tall for a wolf—and lanky. Ears up and forward, almond-shaped, blue-green eyes shining in the dark. Tony hadn't noticed before, but his sleek black fur was tipped with silver where it was longer, especially around his neck and face.

Actually, he looked a lot... _fluffier_ than he had the last time Tony had seen him. He wondered if weres grew warm coats in the winter. Why the hell wouldn't they? He'd just never really thought about it before.

Stephen was also wearing something around his neck, Tony realized—it looked like a gold coin on a colorful, braided cord.

The wolf tilted his head to the side, watching him, waiting.

Tony cleared his throat, and said, "You look..." The words that sprang to mind were _beautiful_ and _majestic_ , but that seemed like a weird thing to call a grown-ass man, so he settled for, "You look terrifying like that." Because that was also true.

Stephen's jaw dropped open, revealing sharp, white teeth, and making him look even more terrifying. But then his tongue lolled out, his ears flopped down, and he started panting.

Tony took an involuntary step back. "What are you doing? Are you...? Are you _trying to look like a dog?_ "

Stephen wagged his tail, doggy grin growing wider.

"Stop it. You look ridiculous. Don't tell me that actually works?"

Stephen huffed. Tony was sure the wolf was laughing at him.

"Doesn't work, by the way. You still look scary."

Stephen edged closer, wagging his tail. "Wait... What are you...?" That was all Tony managed before Stephen bumped his huge furry body into him and leaned, making him stumble back a step. 

The wolf looked up at him with soulful eyes.

Tony shook his head. "No way. Nope. I'm not petting you." But even as he said it, his hands came down almost of their own accord to rest on the wolf's back. The fur there was coarser than he expected—still smooth, but thick. Before Tony could really think about what he was doing, he was moving his hands up, sliding his fingers into the softer ruff around Stephen's neck. An odd thrill went through him, almost like a static charge sparking along his nerves. 

It felt only natural to start scratching there, the same way he would if this were just a friendly dog in front of him, instead of a werewolf. The fur was so soft and the skin underneath was so warm. He smelled good, too—not at all like a dog, more like incense or exotic spices. Stephen groaned and leaned into Tony's hand when his fingers moved up behind his ear. He remembered from his dream how much Stephen seemed to like that.

"This is pretty weird," Tony said. It _was_ weird. He was essentially petting a grown man. A grown man who was also a monster. At the same time, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

"I'm not usually into heavy petting before the third date."

Stephen huffed again.

"Yes, I _am_ hilarious. Glad you noticed." Tony sighed and reluctantly pulled his hands away from the were's soft fur. That annoying sense of loss was suddenly there again, like a dark hole had opened up inside of him. He didn't like it. Tony took a few steps back to put more distance between them. Didn't help. _Damn bond_... "Are you going to spend the whole night as a dog, or can we talk?"

Stephen whuffed at him this time. Definitely a sound of annoyance. 

And then a ripple seemed to pass over his body, as if reality was being distorted somehow. Dark fur began to recede and Stephen's form stretched and shifted—legs growing longer, muzzle disappearing. Tony knew this transformation could be painful—he was so used to seeing weres writhing and howling in pain as they changed, it was when they were most vulnerable—but Stephen made no sound at all. In fact, he made it look almost effortless. The entire process took less than five seconds, by Tony's rough estimate.

He had prepared to avert his eyes, but Stephen was actually wearing clothes this time. Something dark that looked like a gi over matching pants. The werewolf uncurled from his crouch and stood up.

"How did you...?"

"The charm around my neck holds my clothes for me while I'm in my other form. The night we met, it was ripped off during the fight and I lost it."

Stephen's clothes were old and worn, but they looked clean. Tony could see areas where the fabric had been carefully repaired and patched. The charm on the string was indeed gone, he noted. The only flashes of color were on the belt holding his gi closed, and even those were subdued—deep red and blue embroidery. Still no shoes. Tony wondered if his feet ever got cold. Maybe that's what the tattoos were for.

The man's pale skin seemed to glow white in the moonlight, and the edges of his tattoos were just visible through the open neck of his robes, a tantalizing view.

Stephen might have been impressive as a wolf, but Tony was forced to admit he looked much more attractive as a person. Apparently, tall, dark, and furry was a type. And he was into it. _Fuck_.

He would have to worry about his newly discovered deviant tendencies later. Right now, they had a situation. "You're awfully close to Bridgeton, tonight," Tony said. "Dangerous for sub-naturals. Especially on a night like this."

Stephen looked around, as if considering the clearing and the forest for the first time. "I agree. This is not a safe place for me to be right now. But I'm here for a reason." His bright eyes met Tony's again. "A woman was taken yesterday."

"What a coincidence... that's why I'm here, too." 

The woman—Marjorie _something,_  Tony couldn't recall her last name—had been abducted just after sundown last night. The latest victim in a series of recent attacks by either vampire's or ghouls. She was a volunteer with the night watch, protecting the borders of the town from dark creatures. She and her partner had been out on patrol along one of the barrier fences, when her idiot partner had wandered off to take a leak. When he got back, Marjorie was gone. Local law enforcement had mounted a search and rescue, but they knew the statistics. Most of those who were taken would turn up dead and drained or partially eaten within a few days. And there was no sense risking more lives.

Tony wasn't willing to give up so easily.

Stephen smiled and nodded, but his eyes were troubled. "Good, because I could use your help. I've picked up the woman's trail. And the trail of those who took her. They carried her from Bridgeton, through here." He paused. "Vampires have her. Vampires who belong to the group I was telling you about. As of last night, she was still alive. And they didn't bite her after they took her."

"How do you know that?"

"The way she smells." Stephen paused. "The way she _smelled_. The trail is old. So I can't be sure they haven't harmed her since they passed through here. But, while they were carrying her away, she was alive and uninjured."

 _Smell, of course._ Tony estimated at least twenty-six hours had passed since she was taken. They were running out of time. "But that... still doesn't make sense. Why wouldn't they bite her right away?"

Pretty much everyone was vaccinated these days, especially anyone living in these border towns, so there weren't as many people turned any more. But a vampire's bite would still render a victim helpless, make them easier to control, to carry back to the nest. The toxin was fatal after a day or so without treatment. So most people were probably eaten in the first twenty-four hours after they were taken.

But not this person...

"They're keeping her alive," Tony said slowly. "Why?"

Stephen frowned. "I don't know."

"What about the others they took?" None of the other bodies had been found yet, either. And that was also unusual—vampires usually dumped their prey close to the area where they'd been captured. It was a weird bloodsucker habit that no one had figured out.

"I don't know about the others. But we haven't found any corpses in our territory recently. I suspect they've kept the others alive as well, but I still have no idea why vampires would do that." Stephen's brow furrowed.

"Maybe we should ask them about that when we find them. You said you've picked up their trail?"

"That's right."

"Then there's still a chance we could save her."

Stephen tipped his head, thinking. "Possibly..."

"What are we waiting for? Point me in the right direction."

Stephen gave him a little half-smile that made Tony's heart thump faster— _damn deviant tendencies!_ —and gestured vaguely toward the south. "This way." He started walking to the edge of the trees.

Tony eyed the dark shadows there, but he took a deep breath and caught up with the werewolf. "Wait... We're walking?"

"Yes, we're walking. I can't follow a scent trail from the air." The _you idiot_ part was only implied, Tony noticed.

Tony didn't care if he looked like an idiot. Now he was curious. "You don't need to be a wolf to do that? Follow a scent trail?"

"No. My sense of smell is comparable in both forms."

Tony was relieved to find that it wasn't too dark to see without the help of his devices under the trees. Stephen set a steady pace through the forest, picking his way carefully over fallen branches and stopping only occasionally to sniff the air. He was clearly in his element here. Tony kept up as best as he could. He definitely preferred flying.

Stephen's feet, he noticed, were absolutely silent on the ground, while he was making a hell of a racket crunching over leaves and stumbling through the undergrowth. Magic, probably. He made a mental note to ask about that later. First, though...

"So..." he said, keeping his voice casual, "you didn't tell me you have a friend who's a vampire."

Stephen gave him a sharp glance, but Tony kept his eyes fixed on the ground ahead, mostly to keep from stumbling and landing on his face.

Just as casually, Stephen said, "You didn't ask." And Tony could tell the guy was trying to figure out how he could possibly know about that. Confirmation that the dreams probably didn't go both ways.

Tony wasn't ready to give him the satisfaction of an explanation yet. "I just didn't know weres and vamps were buddies."

"Not all vampires are evil, just as not all weres are evil."

"Right." He might trust Stephen, but there was no way in hell he would ever trust a vamp to be anything other than a killer. "Have you thought about asking your friend why these vampires are kidnapping people and keeping them alive?"

"Of course."

"And?"

"He doesn't know why they're doing it either."

"Yeah. I'm sure your friend wouldn't know anything about kidnapping and eating people." He wasn't sure why he was trying to turn this into an argument, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"He's not like that," Stephen said mildly.

Tony laughed, but there wasn't much humor in it. "He's a vegetarian, too, huh?"

Stephen gave him a long look, which Tony chose to ignore. They walked on in silence for a while. A hush had fallen over the forest and the first snowflakes began to drift down around them, disappearing into the leaves. It wouldn't stick—the ground was still too warm despite the chill in the air. Tony shivered. The nanotech he wore kept him fairly warm. He wondered if Stephen felt the cold. If he did, he didn't show it.

Stephen finally broke the silence. "I know you have a... _history_ with vampires. I saw the news after you were taken."

"Old news," Tony insisted. It never felt like that, though, no matter how many times he said it. Almost fifteen years had gone by, and he still thought about it everyday.

"Even so... I understand why it might be harder for you to be open-minded when it comes to vampires."

Tony glared at him. "You don't know the first thing about me. And you don't know anything about what went on in that fucking hole they put me in. So don't pretend for one second that you understand what I went through. Because you don't."

The silence that fell between them felt almost painful this time. _Fuck_... Tony sighed. God, he could be such an ass sometimes. "Look... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I just... it's hard for me to talk about still."

Stephen nodded. He was silent for a long time, before saying, "I was taken, too." 

Tony bit back the sarcastic reply that tried to crawl out of his throat. Instead, he waited for Stephen to go on, listened to the steady crunch of his feet on the leaves.

"They... took me, after I was bitten. They kept me chained up somewhere, kept coming back to attack me. Probably to make sure I was infected. Sometimes they bit me. Sometimes they used... _other_ methods. I couldn't fight back because of the spells I was under. The first time I changed, I... I lost myself. Who I was. The rational part of me that I'd always thought of as my true self was gone. And the only thing left in its place was an animal. It took everything I had to come back from that. At first, I didn't even want to come back. There was nothing left to come back to, there was nothing left for me in the world."

Stephen looked over at him and, this time, Tony met his eyes. 

"So, when I say that I understand what you went through, Tony Stark... I mean it."

"Yeah." Tony swallowed hard and looked away. Another, heavier silence followed. Tony decided a subject change was needed. He cleared his throat. "Do you have any kids?"

Stephen gave him an amused look. "That's an odd question."

Tony shrugged one shoulder. "Puppies?"

Stephen snorted. "Maybe. Probably," he amended.

"You _probably_ have kids?"

"After I was first infected, I spent a lot of time as a wolf. Years, probably. I might have enjoyed the company of other weres from time to time. Especially during the breeding season. Some of them were female."

 _Some_ of them were female... That was an interesting bit of information. "So... you're into—"

Stephen went abruptly still and threw a hand out in front of Tony. " _Stop_."

Tony looked up. "What is it?" Every scan and sensor was giving him nothing. Friday was silent. They were alone, as far as he could tell.

"Black magic."

" _What...?_ How can you—"

"I can feel it. They're using magic to hide." Stephen took a step back, eyes darting around. "This is a trap."

Tony said, "Friday, scan for—"

And a ghoul burst out of the empty air and slammed into him like a cannonball.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger! I promise to update soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait :) I got a lot of the next chapter written, though...
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: some mild violence, beheading

"Boss?" Friday sounded worried again. Tony was starting to feel sorry for his poor A.I.

 _Fuck_ , the back of his head hurt. "Yeah. Yep." And he was still dizzy after that hit. His armor had formed almost instantly, but not before his head impacted the ground.

"I detect two more ghouls and a vampire."

Tony struggled to focus on the information scrolling past his eyes. "Besides... the one... on top of me, you mean?" Stephen's tracker showed that he was somewhere behind Tony, vitals in green, so that was a relief. Tony shoved the ghoul's rotten hand off his neck, wincing as bits of dried flesh flaked off, but the damn thing was still too close to get a good shot in.

"Correct, Boss."

The ghoul snapped its teeth in his face, trying desperately to bite him. This one was old, practically mummified, but still strong as hell. Unnaturally strong. Tony tried pushing it off, but he couldn't budge it, even with his suit straining at full power.

He sent the nanobots down his left arm to form a blade. As soon as it was ready, he swept up in an arc, slicing the ghoul's head off. _Snicker-snack!_ The fucker didn't even seem to notice.

Ghouls were damn strong—stronger than vampires—but relatively easy to damage. When their spirits finally let go of their useless bodies, however, they became dangerous in a different way. The wards on his armor should prevent the possibility of possession, but he didn't want to take any chances leaving an angry ghost floating free. Therefore, a careful use of violence was prudent.

" _Fuck_ , you smell bad. Has anyone ever told you that before?" 

The ghoul banged uselessly against his armor. Maybe it couldn't see as well without a head.

"Guess not..."

There was a very intense orange flash somewhere behind him and then a second ghoul flew past and slammed into a tree. Threads of orange magic wrapped around and around the thrashing corpse, securing it to the trunk. 

Stephen's doing, Tony figured. The ghoul on top of him was annoying, but not Tony's major concern right now. "Friday, where the hell is that bloodsucker?"

"The vampire is located approximately twenty feet away at your two o'clock." He could see the beacon flashing on his map, unmoving. Why the fuck was it hanging so far back? _Unless_...

"Boss, power levels dropping at a dangerous rate. Down to seventy-five percent."

 _What the fuck?_ His suit was suddenly cold inside, too.

"Power at sixty percent."

 _Magic_. That was the only thing that could cause this kind of power drop. That vampire must be a witch or warlock—no ghoul could wield magic like that and vampires were notorious for their affinity for power-draining spells. If he lost power, he'd lose his wards, too.

"Power at fifty-five percent, Boss."

 _Damn it_ , he had no defense against a magic attack, other than to just get the fuck away. But he couldn't leave Stephen. Speaking of... where the fuck was Stephen?

Suddenly, his field of view was obscured by a weird blue light.

"Power levels stabilizing," Friday announced. Even she managed to sound surprised.

Tony looked around. The blue light seemed to be coming from his armor. "Huh, that's…" Stephen must have done something magical, he realized, to protect him. He couldn't actually see the werewolf right now, not with this asshole still on top of him. Which was rapidly becoming annoying.

He gave one more huge shove using his thrusters this time and managed to fling the headless corpse off. The thing got up immediately and barreled back toward him. Tony was ready this time. He raised his hand and blasted the legs right out from under it. The torso flopped forward, and skidded through the leaves, arms waving and hands still clawing at the ground, dragging it forward. Tony could see faint white whisps of the ghoul's spirit straining against the prison of its ruined body.

Tony stepped close enough to lop off both of the ghoul's hands. It was so tempting to just obliterate the thing, but that was the worst thing you could do with a ghoul. As long as the torso stayed roughly intact, its spirit would remain trapped.

The corpse was still trying to get to him, but without hands, it was harmless. "Sorry about that. Nothing personal," Tony said. He held his arm up in front of his face. The metal had a faint blue sheen to it, almost like it was glowing. Stephen's magic must still be working.

Now that he had protection, where the fuck was that vampire?

Stephen was busy tying the third ghoul up with his magical threads. This one was no more than a teenager, and fresh, too, maybe less than a year old. She snarled and thrashed on the ground, fighting against the restraints. Dirty blond hair flying, filmy eyes wild. She was still wearing the remains of torn pajamas. Pink pajamas with little red hearts. 

 _Fuck_.

Tony turned away, and back to Stephen. The were had a look of concentration on his face and his hands were up, carefully directing the flow of magic. He looked like he had everything under control here.

"Since you've already got everything wrapped up," Tony said, "I'm going after that vamp." A quick glance at his onboard map confirmed that bloodsucker hadn't gone far—flying would be overkill. He stepped away, ready to follow on foot.

"Tony, wait... Don't." Stephen's voice was quiet.

Tony turned back around, confused. Why the hell shouldn't he chase this thing down? "It's getting away. If I catch it, we might be able to ask some questions. Maybe find our missing person."

"Just let her go." The were's eyes were soft, almost pleading. 

" _Fuck that_ ," Tony muttered. He turned back around and jogged into the trees.

It took him almost no time to catch up with the dark figure who was fleeing ahead of him. A woman, he guessed, based on her size and clothes. She was fast, but he was faster. Just as he caught up to her, she suddenly stopped and whirled around, forcing him to skid to a sudden halt.

The two of them stood there, facing each other.

Tony could see her features clearly in the moonlight, even down here under the trees. She was black, must have been in her mid-to-late thirties when she was turned. Her hair had been sheared down to only an inch or so. Her skin had the unnatural, waxy sheen of a vampire and her eyes were solid black. She'd been beautiful once, and she was still beautiful in a terrifying sort of way. A young vampire, and still so human. Her dark robes looked almost like the ones Stephen wore, although hers were clearly silk, and embroidered all over in the deepest blood red thread. The shapes of serpents and dragons.

She raised both hands, and Tony could see faint swirls of blue magic gathering around her fingers.

He raised his hand, too, ready to unleash a photon beam in her direction if she tried anything. _Shit_ , he'd wanted to catch her alive, see if they could get any information out of her.

The vampire's lips curved up in a knowing smile. "Tony Stark," she said.

Tony frowned. "Do I...? Do I know you?" His heart was suddenly racing. She didn't look familiar, but he couldn't remember much from his time in the hole. Had tried so hard to _not_ remember...

"Yes, you know me," she said. "But do not worry if you do not remember... We shall meet again soon. And I will remind you."

And then she turned and sprinted away, dodging nimbly through the trees.

Tony stood there, staring at the place where she'd disappeared into the dark, breathing hard. His mind was racing trying to decipher what had just happened. She must've just recognized him, he reasoned. He was well-known, after all. She couldn't have been there, back then. That was so many years ago. She was too young. Too young to have been one of them...

He finally lowered his gauntlet. " _Fuck_." He should've taken the shot, had no idea why he hesitated. What the hell had gotten into him lately?

As much as he wanted to go after her, he needed to get back to Stephen. Couldn't leave him out here alone. Tony took one more look around the now empty forest, the snow falling silently around him, before turning around and heading back.

Stephen was right where Tony had left him. The two ghouls he'd tied up were still secure, even as they snarled and thrashed to get free. Headless was still scrabbling around in the dirt. 

Tony dismissed his armor and the nanobots swarmed back into the housing. It might be cold out, but he was overheated, still shaking with post-fight adrenaline. Stephen, however, looked zen as fuck. His hair and robes were wet with melting snow, but his face was peaceful. The guy even had his eyes closed. Tony cleared his throat. "Stephen? Hey, uh—"

Stephen held up one finger. Tony shut up.

It actually took him a few more seconds of watching to realize Stephen was doing something subtle with his hands. More magic, apparently.

Everything had gone quiet again. Tony glanced around. The ghouls, he realized, had stopped struggling and were just staring at Stephen with odd, rapt expressions. Except headless, of course, but his flailing arms had also gone still. 

Stephen raised his arms slowly and brought his palms together. Blue light danced between his fingers, flowing like water. Based on the color, this was black magic—the practice of drawing and using life energy to power spells. Popular with vampires for obvious reasons. Stephen had mentioned he used it to augment his dimensional magic. Tony wondered if the blue on his armor had been the same. And where the energy for _that_ particular spell had come from.

Even with the more sinister implications, Tony had to admit it was beautiful. He watched, as fascinated as the ghouls, as Stephen weaved the blue light between his fingers in a complicated pattern, almost like the delicate threads of a spiderweb.

He stepped toward the ghoul tied to the tree first, pressing his palm briefly to the corpse's forehead. Tony could hear him whispering something under his breath. Then, he knelt down next to the girl's corpse, and brushed her hair back gently from her forehead. A tiny spark of blue jumped from his fingers when he touched her skin. Finally, he turned to poor headless, and rested his hand on the silent torso. 

He stood again and raised both of his hands into the air. Blue light flashed and seemed to flow down over each ghoul, starting from the spot where Stephen had touched them and spreading, until each corpse was glowing with magic. "Be free," Stephen said softly, "and be at rest." And then the magic lifted away, pulling something shimmering and white behind it—their ghosts, Tony realized. Each spirit dissipated like mist into the air as soon as the link was broken.

The bodies slumped to the ground, finally empty. 

Tony hadn't even realized such a thing was possible. "That was fucking incredible. How did you—"

Stephen suddenly staggered and Tony lunged forward to catch him. The man sagged into his arms. "Hey, Stephen? You okay? Hey, Doc?" 

Stephen actually chuckled, head lolling against Tony's shoulder. "No one's... called me 'Doc'... for twenty years," he mumbled.

"Yeah, well... you needed a nickname. You okay, there? You seem a little out of it." He didn't look injured and the readings from the implant were all still in the green.

"Fine... 'M, fine. Trees here just... don't know me... yet. Had to use... something else..."

"You're not making any sense."

Stephen waved him off. "I always make sense." He tried to push away, but Tony held on. "I'm fine," he said again. "Just magic fatigue. I'll recover soon."

"Right." Tony looked around. It was snowing pretty heavily now and probably well below freezing. He could feel Stephen shivering against him. He couldn't just leave the guy out here, not with that witch still somewhere nearby. Not while he was acting like this. He would just fly him back to the compound, but Rhodey was there tonight and he wasn't ready to have _that_  particular conversation yet.

He knew there were a lot of abandoned houses around here. Most separated by a few acres or so. That gave him an idea. "Friday, locate the nearest habitable structure. Make it something nice."

Stephen gave him an indecipherable look.

"What? You're cold and wet and too loopy to leave out here alone without a dog sitter. Plus, we need to talk."

Stephen laughed again, deep and loose. And he sounded very drunk to Tony's experienced ears. "Yes, we should talk." At least he'd stopped trying to push Tony away, was actually clinging to him now instead.

Friday cut back in. "There's an abandoned farmhouse approximately three quarters of a mile to the west." The location flashed bright on the map projected on his glasses. "Fireplace appears functional, and the roof and most of the windows are intact."

"Sounds lovely. Does it have a whirlpool tub, though? I was really hoping for one of those."

Friday chose not to respond to that, so he grabbed up an armful of magic-drunk werewolf and started off toward the west.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Uh... sex. Maybe very slight dubious consent, if you squint. We old folks might call it 'seduction'. Mind the rating.

The trek to the old farmhouse through the falling snow didn't take long, but they were both wet and cold by the time they got there. 

Stephen had recovered quickly from his magical ailment and was soon walking on his own, though Tony kept a hand on his arm. Stephen didn't protest. 

Friday had been right about this place: the much older barn was falling down and the fields were gradually being reclaimed by the forest, but the house, itself, was in decent shape. Tony shoved the old door open and they stepped inside. 

"Hello? Anybody home?" he called. Nothing, of course. Just trash and some wrecked furniture. Someone had obviously used the fireplace recently. Furniture had been hacked up for kindling. And they'd conveniently piled a bunch of split logs by the hearth. It took only a few seconds to check the structural integrity of the chimney, make sure the flue was open, and start a fire. Tony left Stephen sitting there to warm up while he took a quick look around the rest of the house.

Mostly, he needed a few minutes to figure some shit out.

The place had been pretty well picked over, and not recently, too. A layer of dust and old leaves that had blown in through the busted windows covered almost every surface. He stepped carefully through the ransacked kitchen. No canned food left, nothing interesting. Or useful. He hoped the people who'd once lived here had done most of this on their way out. If they had time to gather supplies, they had time to get away when the dark came in.

He felt oddly restless. He should've been tired, after the fight in the forest, and after dragging Stephen almost a mile. But he wasn't. His unease wasn't due to the leftover adrenaline from the fight anymore—he could no longer blame it on that. This was something new. 

Tony moved carefully upstairs, testing each step before letting it take his weight. He opened an upstairs closet and then just stared at the mess inside, lost in thought.

The way Stephen's body had felt against his. The way he fucking smelled, even wet and sweating after the fight. Tony's nerves had felt raw, exposed. _Alive_. Touching Stephen had felt _right_ in a way nothing else had for a long, long time.

Was it lust? That was part of it, no doubt. Stephen was attractive, someone Tony might hit on if he met him in a bar. But Tony thought it was more than that. Stephen was smart. And calm. Easy to talk to. Tony found his presence almost... _grounding_ , in a way. He'd felt so lost for so long, had always felt like he'd been flailing around for something to cling onto—some kind of lifeline. Maybe he'd finally found it. And it was a fucking werewolf.

Tony shook his head. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" he whispered.

"Boss?" Friday was so good at sounding concerned, he almost felt guilty.

"That was a rhetorical question. We've talked about those before."

Tony dragged an old quilt out of the closet and sniffed it carefully. Musty, but probably clean. He made his way back downstairs. Stephen was still sitting by the fire.

"Not much left. But I found this." He shook out the quilt. "Hopefully, it doesn't have fleas." He folded it and set it down in front of the fire. "I'm too old to sit on the ground. And that—"

" _Shit_. You're bleeding."

"Where?"

"Back of your head."

Tony reached up. His hair was indeed sticky and wet. He pulled his hand back and examined the blood on his fingers. "Huh. Must've happened when that ghoul knocked me down. Armor took a few seconds to react."

"You should have said something. Let me take a look. Come down here so I can see." Stephen gestured at the fire.

"I thought monsters could see in the dark."

"Just shut up and do it."

Tony sat down on the old quilt, facing Stephen. This was dangerous, he knew. And not because Stephen was a monster.

"Turn that way so I can see the wound."

He shifted around a little so he was staring away from the fire. Stephen's fingers brushed lightly through the hair on the back of his head. Tony was still amazed at how natural it felt to turn his back on a were, to let him examine a head wound. He felt completely at ease around Stephen. More than at ease...

"It's not too bad. Small laceration. Bleeding's already stopped," Stephen murmured.

Tony shuddered at that deep voice, the gentle touch on his head. _Fuck_.

"Turn back around," Stephen said. He held his hand up in front of Tony's face, one finger raised. "Follow my finger with your eyes."

Tony rolled his eyes, instead. "I don't have a concussion." He'd had enough experience with brain injuries by now to know when he had one. He was an expert. But he supposed Stephen was, too, being a former neurosurgeon.

"Let me just make sure." Stephen moved his finger slowly back and forth anyway, and Tony's eyes followed almost of their own accord.

Stephen's hands came up to rest against his cheeks. He slowly turned Tony's face left then right, still watching his eyes, brow furrowed.

Tony was equally transfixed by the were's eyes—the way the firelight turned them from blue to green and orange, like burning copper. That wild ache was back, making him reckless. He brought his own hand up and pressed it over the other man's.

Stephen seemed to realize he was being watched, too. His eyes darted around Tony's face before sliding away to focus on something over his shoulder. "You're fine," he said softly. "I don't think you have a concussion." He tried to drop his hands, but Tony held on.

"Hey," Tony said. He wanted Stephen to look at him, he wanted that eye contact. "Hey, look at me."

Stephen finally met his eyes again. _Better_ , Tony thought. But the guy was clearly struggling to not look away.

Tony leaned in closer, moving slowly, and murmured, "Told you I was fine." Was he really going to do this absolutely insane thing? _Yes_ , he decided, _he was._

Stephen's eyes widened, but he didn't back away. "Why are you...?"

"I'm going to kiss you."

Stephen blinked at him.

"I'm telling you what I'm doing, so you don't bite my head off," Tony continued.

Stephen frowned at him. "I know what you're doing, you ass. I'm aski—"

Tony rushed forward the last few inches and shut him up.

He had about two seconds to wonder if he'd just made a huge mistake—he'd never kissed a werewolf before, after all—but then Stephen seemed to melt against him, pressing his body against Tony's and parting his lips. Tony pulled him closer and deepened the kiss. This was _right_ , he knew—every part of his body tensed in anticipation.

And it was good, too, until Stephen put a hand on his chest and tried to push him away. "Tony, you're not... This is not..."

"Come on," Tony murmured. He slid his hand up to the back of Stephen's head, tried to pull him closer again.

" _Gods_ , just... stop for a second."

"Fine." Tony backed off, but kept his hand on Stephen's shoulder. He didn't want to let go and risk having that empty ache fill him again.

Stephen shook his head, still breathing hard. "You don't really want this. It's just the bond. It's not real."

"I _do_ want this. And don't tell me you don't want this, too, because I know you do. I don't even need to be good at smells to know you want this."

"Obviously." Stephen gave him a look that said he was an idiot. "But—"

"But, nothing. I wanted you before the damn bond, you idiot. Couldn't you smell that?"

Stephen seemed conflicted, so Tony leaned in and kissed him again. This time, Stephen let him.

Tony slowly moved down, taking his time kissing Stephen's long neck, giving him a gentle bite every inch or so. Stephen made a low grumbling sound that was almost, but not quite, a growl. And Tony managed to turn it into a groan when he dropped his head to Stephen's shoulder and sucked on the soft skin there. He slid his hand in through the flap on the front of Stephen's wet robes. _Fuck_ , his skin was so warm despite the chill in here. He pushed in further, across Stephen's smooth chest, ran his thumb over a nipple until it hardened. Stephen shuddered and groaned against his neck.

"You know," Tony mumbled, "the best way to warm someone up... is to get them out of their wet clothes," He slid his hand back up and tugged hopefully at the edge of Stephen's robes, "and get naked with me. Think I read that somewhere, once."

Stephen snorted. "The best way for me to warm up is to turn into a wolf."

Tony shrugged slightly. "Kind of a mood killer."

"I thought we came here to talk," Stephen grumbled, but he didn't protest when Tony slid the edge of his gi off his shoulder.

"We _are_ talking," Tony murmured, and then he had to taste the skin he'd uncovered, so he leaned down and licked the spot where Stephen's clavicle dipped down.

Stephen pulled his head back up and kissed him again, sloppy and desperate. _That_ was more like it. 

Tony dropped his hand down, so he could brush the backs of his fingers across Stephen's crotch. An experimental touch, to see if it would be welcome. Stephen jerked and gasped into his mouth.  _Fuck,_ he was hard as a rock. Tony turned his hand over so he could run his fingers gently up and down Stephen's erection. 

He found the head of Stephen's cock and rubbed his thumb firmly in little circles. Stephen groaned desperately into his mouth and clutched him tighter. Hot wetness seeped into the fabric under his thumb. _Fuck_. He had to get his hands on warm skin, get his mouth on him and taste him. _Now_. Tony felt around, trying to figure out how to get Stephen's pants open. Drawstring, he thought, and here was where it was tied. He started working the knot open.

But Stephen suddenly leaned back and pulled Tony's hands gently away from his pants. "Tony..." He was still panting, but his eyes were downcast. "This can't mean anything. You know it can't. We're not... on the same side here. We're enemies."

Tony rolled his eyes. "You keep saying that. And then we keep proving you wrong."

"Even of that were true, and this... _relationship_ —whatever this is—were possible, we are not equals. We never could be. I'm not human anymore. I have no rights. And it's illegal for you to even talk to me, let alone..." He gestured at the two of them. "Just... think about what you're doing."

"I _have_ thought about it."

Stephen gave him a faint, sad smile. "I don't mean while you were wandering around upstairs looking for a blanket."

"I have thought about it," Tony repeated. "And I want this." He'd never felt so sure about anything in his life. If he was a deviant, he didn't fucking care anymore. This was _right_.

Stephen's eyes searched his for another moment. Looking for something there, but Tony had no idea what. "Okay," he said softly.

That was all the permission Tony needed. He surged forward again, pulling Stephen back in for another kiss and shoving Stephen's robes out of the way so he could palm his erection. Stephen crowded up against the him, practically crawling into his lap, nuzzling his neck. Tony had to push him back so he could tug at the sash around his waist, trying to undo the knot. This one was easy, and the robes came apart at the front. Tony slid his hands up and around, feeling all that hot, smooth skin. Then down, back to the drawstring on Stephen's pants, desperate to get in there. This time Stephen didn't stop him. And then Tony was sliding his hand inside and around. Stephen moaned and tried to thrust into his hand, almost knocking him over.

Tony just explored him at first, moving his fingers over velvety skin. He'd seen highly illegal porn, of course, had read shit, and everything suggested that a were in human form would be essentially the same as a human. Still, he'd had doubts that a werewolf's dick worked the same as anyone else's. But Stephen's cock felt completely normal in his hand. And fucking amazing.

Stephen was busy fumbling with Tony's belt and flies, but his fingers were clumsy. Tony thought about simply sending the nanobots back to their housing and making his pants disappear, but he worried that might be weird. Instead, he reached down and helped Stephen out, opening his button and shoving the zipper down with one hand.

Stephen touched him hesitantly at first—long fingers wrapping around and then stroking once and then again. Tony bit back a moan as Stephen's grip tightened. His dick was so sensitive right now—he'd been hard since the damn fight. And this was going to be over too soon if he wasn't careful.

"Hold on... wait," he managed. Tony had something else in mind.

He scooted back and started to slide down Stephen's body so he could get his head in his lap, but the guy grabbed his arms and stopped him. Tony looked up at him curiously.

" _Don't_... You can't." Stephen swallowed hard. "I mean, I want it— _fuck, I want it_ —but... I can't let you risk getting infected."

"I'm vaccinated, remember?"

"No vaccine is... one hundred percent effective. There's always a risk. Contact with my body fluids could be dangerous for you."

"We've already been exchanging body fluids, in case you haven't noticed."

"Semen has a much higher viral load than saliva."

" _Wow!_ The mouth on you, Doc."

Stephen gave him a chastising look that was only partially undercut by his smile. "I'm only trying to protect you."

Tony sighed. "How do doctors ever get laid?" He'd never had to try to talk a guy into a blowjob before. Didn't matter—he had another thought.

Stephen had been trying to climb into his lap anyway, so Tony decided to give up on his fight against gravity—he grabbed the other man and fell backwards, pulling Stephen over on top of him. They thumped down onto the old quilt.

"Your head! Sorry!" One of Stephen's hands flew up to the back of his head, gently probing.

 _Fuck his head_. Tony twisted out of his reach. "Didn't even feel it," he muttered. He didn't want to be examined. And he definitely did not want Stephen to slip back into doctor mode. The only thing he cared about right now was getting Stephen off.

He grabbed Stephen's face and pulled him down into another deep kiss. While the guy was distracted, Tony slid his hands down to his ass, grabbed a handful of soft flesh and squeezed. _Damn_ , that was nice. Stephen growled into his mouth. Tony probably should have found the sound terrifying, but it was quickly becoming an incredible turn on. 

Then Tony had to figure out how to get Stephen's pants down. Difficult when the guy was straddling him. He settled for just pushing them down over the soft swell of Stephen's ass. That would have to be enough for now.

He reached around so he could take hold of Stephen's cock. _Fuck_. They wouldn't have to worry about chaffing—he was already so slick and wet. He rubbed his thumb over the tip and Stephen dropped his head to Tony's neck, panting. 

More precome dribbled out and Tony smeared it around gently. "You're so wet for me," he murmured. He wrapped his hand around Stephen's cock and gave him a good long stroke. The angle was a little awkward, but it would work. Stephen jerked his hips forward and thrust into Tony's hand. "Yeah, that's it."

Tony tightened his grip and stroked him faster, reached his other hand back to pull gently at Stephen's balls. The were's growl turned into a low, desperate whine, breath hot against his neck.

"That's it, come on, baby," Tony whispered. Maybe it was weird to call a creature of the dark _baby_ , but he didn't fucking care anymore. 

Stephen didn't seem to mind. He moaned and started thrusting slowly into Tony's hand. 

 _Damn_. Tony's own cock was was leaking now. He could feel it pooling on his belly, growing cold on his skin. "Yeah, that's right. Come on. Give it to me."

"Tony," Stephen whispered, urgently. His hips were already losing their careful rhythm. He was close. 

Tony pulled faster on his cock, cupped Stephen's balls gently as they drew up against his body. "Fucking come on me," he said. "Just do it, baby." He wanted it, _God, he wanted it!_

Stephen made a low, strangled sound and hot come spilled over Tony's hand, spattered his chest and stomach. _Oh God!_ Tony dropped his other hand down and desperately squeezed the base of his own cock. It was so hard to resist pushing up into his fist. He'd been on edge since the fight in the forest, but he wasn't ready to come yet. 

Stephen gave him one more almost chaste kiss on the lips and sat back. His chest and neck were flushed, his breathing rough. He had a wild look in his eyes that Tony had never seen before. Almost predatory. 

Tony should have been terrified. But he wasn't. He just... _wanted_ him. All of him. Tony swiped his fingers through the mess in his belly, held them up so he could see. _Fuck_ , he wanted to—

Stephen swirled his hand in the air and his come disappeared in a little puff of smoke. He smiled.

" _Hey!_ " Tony shot him a look of betrayal.

"You were about to do something stupid. So I stopped you." Stephen dropped back down to his hands and knees over Tony, crawled backward slowly down his body. His eyes never left Tony's face. 

"Yeah, well... get in line." Tony struggled to control his own breathing as Stephen settled down over his legs, reached for his aching cock. "Also... No magic during sex. That's a rule I just made up."

Stephen drew his fingers teasingly up and down Tony's length, gave him a grin that was practically a leer. "You sure about that rule? You could be missing out."

 _Good point_. "I, uh, reserve the right to"—Stephen dipped his head down and licked just the tip of his cock—" _Oh, fuck!_ To, uh... change any rule after... the, uh, the acquisition of more data."

"Right." Stephen nodded. "That seems sensible."

"Wow, nobody's ever said that to me before." Stephen gave him another teasing stroke, which caused his brain to short-circuit. "Wait... what were we talking about again?"

"Sex magic," Stephen said, and blew a hot breath across the head of Tony's cock. 

"Oh, that's... yeah. Uh, I thought oral sex was banned. Something about viruses in semen..." Tony was suddenly finding it very hard to be articulate.

"Your semen is fine." Stephen licked him again, and Tony struggled not to buck up into his mouth. "And you taste incredible."

 _Oh, fuck!_ "Oh, good... Seems unfair, but I'm not... going to complain if— _Shit!_ " 

Tony threw his head back and clutched at the blanket as wet heat slowly slid down his dick. "Oh fuck, oh God." The warmth from the fire was like a brand against the bare skin of his hip and thigh, but Stephen's mouth was hotter.

Stephen teased him mercilessly at first, moving his mouth down so slowly and then back up, sucking gently, letting his tongue flick along the underside of Tony's cock. 

The teasing was good—fantastic really—and Tony was so close already that it might have been enough to get him off if Stephen kept it up much longer. But Stephen suddenly bobbed his head faster, taking Tony deeper, and sucking harder. Tony squeezed his eyes shut and thumped his aching head on the hard ground. _Fuck, that felt so fucking good._

"Come on," Tony whispered. "Come on, baby. _Fuck, yeah_. Like that. _God_ , you're so good." He stroked Stephen's hair softly, though his shaking fingers ached to curl up and grab, hold, and _press_. He was desperately clinging to the last of his control.

When Stephen took him all the way down his throat and fucking swallowed around him, Tony finally lost it. He came with his arm pressed against his own mouth to keep from shouting, thrusting up into Stephen's mouth.

He couldn't remember the last time anyone had blown him like that. He had to catch his breath again before he could talk. " _God_ , where did you learn how to do that? Werewolf camp? Kamar Taj?"

Stephen gave him a smug smile. "Medical school."

 

***

 

Later, the fire had burnt down to embers. Tony was too lazy to reach over and put a new log on. He was warm and comfortable enough now, despite the cold outside and the hard floor, wrapped around Stephen. The guy was like a furnace when he got going.

But he was still too keyed up to sleep. He brushed his fingers through the soft hair on the back of Stephen's head, kissed the spot behind his ear, and then the spot where his neck met his shoulder because it was too tempting to resist. The were made a low sound of contentment. "We should talk," Tony said.

Stephen blinked at him sleepily over his shoulder. " _Now_ you wanna talk?" 

"Yeah," Tony said. But then he was silent for a long time.

Stephen shifted in his arms a bit, but stayed quiet, waiting for him to say something.

Tony took a deep breath. "That vampire tonight... She said she knew me. She... implied it was from when I'd been held captive." He paused again. "I don't remember her at all. Honestly, I don't remember a lot from that part of my life. Maybe that's a defense mechanism... Who knows? But why would she say that? Her story doesn't even make sense. That shit happened over twenty years ago. She's too young. There's no way she could've been there."

"She wasn't young," Stephen said quietly.

"What's that?"

"The vampire. She wasn't young. She’s one of the old ones."

Tony shook his head, even though Stephen probably couldn't see it. "No. No way. The way she looked… that was a young vamp."

"Not all vampires age in the same way." Stephen shifted around slightly so he could see Tony's face. "You're probably familiar with those that feed mostly on humans. They're the ones that live close to human settlements and cities. They're the ones who hunt humans. Some of them prefer the taste of it, and some of the other side-effects... But vampires didn't evolve to drink human blood. Why do you think they brought the were virus here when they crossed over with the dark? _We_ are their food. They feed on weres."

"That's..." Tony knew they did, of course. He'd raided many vampire nests and found werewolves among the undead and the ghouls. Sometimes the weres had been chained up—they were pale and thin and weak—obviously prisoners kept for their blood. But sometimes the weres they encountered were free, fighting alongside the vamps and ghouls as equals.

He'd never seen a human prisoner underground. Humans couldn't last as long as weres—they just weren't able to heal from the blood loss as quickly. Tony had always thought that vampires kept werewolves around to feed on because it was simply more practical. He'd never considered other possibilities. "Why does the type of blood they drink matter?"

"Human blood is... different than our blood. Vampires can become addicted to it—for them it's like a strong drug. They crave it. A diet of human blood can also make them stronger, and faster. But it twists them. Makes them more sensitive to sunlight, even the reflected light from the moon. Eventually, they have to stay underground all the time or risk injury. They can live a long time like that, but not forever."

His voice was a low, soft rumble. Tony could feel it in his chest where they were pressed together. _Comforting_.

"The ones who feed only on weres, though... They age differently. They're not as strong, but they heal faster. Their hair doesn't fall out, and they don't become bloated and light sensitive. They can live much longer. Potentially, forever."

"The eternal struggle: junk food versus a healthy diet," Tony mused. And, yet, he sensed an undercurrent of pain in Stephen's words. "They keep weres around to feed on," he added quietly.

"Yes."

"Did they keep you?"

Stephen smiled, but there was no humor in it. "Not for very long."

He gave Stephen a reassuring squeeze, almost subconsciously. "They don't keep humans alive when they take them," he said.

"No," Stephen agreed. 

"But last night they did. I want to know why."

Stephen was silent for a while, watching him, then, "They kept _you_ alive. Why did they do that?"

Tony lay down so he was pressed up against Stephen again, tucked his face close. He found it easier, somehow, to talk about this to Stephen's back.

"They wanted me to build something for them. A machine. A machine that would open the gateways between the dimensions and keep them open. They..." He had to stop and squeeze his eyes shut. "Those fuckers tortured me, tortured... other people. To make me do what they wanted. I knew I couldn't let them have something like that, no matter what happened. I built my first IronMan suit, instead. But it gave me an idea... Some of the data they showed me, the theories we talked about. If it was possible to build something that could keep the gates open, then it would be possible to build a device that would keep them closed. That could shut out the dark. For good.

"The Shield," Stephen said.

"Yep. I got the idea for the Shield from the fucking bloodsuckers."

Stephen thought about that for a while. "I don't think that's why they took Marjorie."

An insurance broker who volunteered once a month for a community patrol. Two kids at home, probably missing their mom. "Unlikely," Tony agreed. He yawned and wrapped his arm around Stephen, finally tired.

He closed his eyes and slept. And he didn't dream about monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I blatantly stole the joke about getting good at blowjobs in medical school from someone on Tumblr. Thanks, whoever you are!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Real life, excuses, etc... you know how it is ;)
> 
> Warnings: masturbation, mental voyeurism

"Boss? _Boss!_ "

Tony woke up to Friday squawking in his ear.

"Hmm...?"

Where the fuck was he? He was warm. His hip and shoulder and back ached. He was lying on a hard floor, and the air around him was chilly, but he was pressed up against something warm and furry. And big. _Bearskin rug_ , he thought blearily. He opened his eyes. Something with black, silver-tipped fur. Probably not a bearskin rug, he reasoned, since it was breathing.

Last night suddenly came rushing back to him in a surreal flood. _Holy shit!_ He'd had sex with a werewolf. Was currently spooning with said werewolf. At least he was the big spoon—that should count for something.

Friday was still talking. Tony tried to focus on what his A.I. was saying. It took some effort. "Uh... what?" he managed.

"Colonel Rhodes has been attempting to override your security and privacy settings for the last fifteen minutes. He's also asked to speak to you. Should I put him through?"

"Yeah, put him through." Why was Stephen a wolf again? He ran a hand over the smooth fur in front of him. Stephen made a rumbling sleepy sound, but didn't move.

"He sounds pissed off, Boss."

Tony sighed. "Yeah, he's always pissed off about something." Usually something he'd done... "Hey, Rhodey."

"God damn you, Tony, where the fuck are you? You turn off your damn tracking system and just fucking disappear without telling anyone around here where you're going! I've fucking had it with—"

"Good morning to you, too." He couldn't help smiling at Rhodey's concern.

"I am not fucking kidding here, Tony. You pull this shit again and I swear to God I'll—"

Stephen chose that moment to yawn. Loudly. Tony winced.

Rhodey obviously heard it. "What the fuck was that? Was that you making that sound?"

"No. No, just a... just a stray dog or something." He gave Stephen a shove and the wolf huffed, laughing.

Rhodey sighed. "I'm coming down there. Just stay where you are. Don't fucking move."

" _No!_ I mean, don't bother. There's no need." _Fuck_. If Rhodey could see him now, he'd probably have a stroke. "I'm fine. Just had a long night. Didn't feel like flying in the snow. I'll be back at the compound soon. I'm already on my way. I'm leaving right now. I expect hot coffee and donuts when I get back. See you soon!"

"Tony, do not fucking hang up on—"

"Bye, Rhodey!" He cut the transmission and sighed. He loved the guy, but sometimes the concern was stifling. And why the fuck had he ever thought it was a good idea to give Rhodey a suit?

He'd need to leave soon. But right now, he really didn't feel like moving. The fire he'd lit last night had gone out, and cold air was seeping in through the broken windows. Tony wrapped his arms around the wolf and buried his face in the fur around his neck. Soft, warm. He was snuggling with a god damn werewolf, but it felt right. For the first time in a long time, _he_ felt right. "Why are you a dog again?" Tony murmured.

The wolf heaved a long sigh. And then the body he was holding started to change in his arms. Smooth fur shifting to the rougher texture of fabric under Tony's fingers. He kept both hands on Stephen, feeling around, fascinated by the way the bones moved under his skin. In just moments, he was spooning a human.

"Fri, you get that? How long did it take?"

"Approximately six seconds, Boss."

Tony grunted. Faster than he thought.

Stephen chuckled. "I've had a lot of practice."

He was a little disappointed to find that Stephen's clothes were all back in order. A useful trick, he supposed, though it pained him to admit it. He wasn't quite as warm or soft, but holding Stephen in his human form was nice, too. And now he didn't have to feel quite so conflicted about his morning wood.

"It's more comfortable to sleep in my wolf form," Stephen explained. His voice was still rough, Tony noted. "And please stop calling me a dog."

Tony snorted. No way he was going to stop now, but he supposed he shouldn't push his luck. Stephen could still bite his head off if he felt like it. "Do you spend a lot of time as a wolf?" Tony could see the advantages. It was probably easier to get around outside. Plus, you had a built-in fur coat when the weather turned bad.

Stephen shrugged. Tony took the hint and loosened his grip so the other man could roll over to face him. "Not as much as I used to," he said. The were actually looked a little less NPR and a little more feral this morning. In a good way—hair mussed and clothes just slightly disordered. He smiled at Tony and his weird, glowing eyes crinkled up at the corners. Tony wanted to climb on top of him and see just how feral they could get together.

Too bad they didn't have time for that. "I guess this is goodbye," he said, reluctantly.

"Yes."

"You'd better get out of here just in case Rhodey makes good on his threat to come kick my ass."

"Right. I'll be fine. I'm a monster, remember?" Stephen smirked.

" _Fuck_..." Tony couldn't help himself. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Stephen's, savored slightly bitter, salty taste he found there. When Stephen groaned softly and opened his mouth, Tony pushed closer, let his hand trail down Stephen's side so he could give the guy's ass a squeeze. He knew they shouldn't be doing this, but his dick certainly wasn't ready to give up yet.

Stephen pulled away first, gently extracting himself from Tony's grip. "Tony..." Stephen warned.

"Yeah, yeah..." Tony let him go.

The were rolled gracefully to his feet. "You'll see me again. Soon."

Tony followed, slightly less gracefully. All of his joints were now protesting their night spent on the floor. He stretched and groaned when his back twinged ominously. "Soon, huh? You mean when you let me find you?" Jesus, he sounded like a jealous bitch already.

Stephen gave him a gentle smile. "Whenever you like. I'll leave your tracker alone from now on." He stopped in the doorway and his smile faded. "Just... be careful. And keep my movements a secret, if you can. My people are vulnerable. Most of us are not fighters. We have children there."

"And vampires."

"Yes. They're vulnerable, too." 

 _Fucking vampires_. Still... "I'll be careful," Tony promised.

Stephen gave him one more solemn nod. Tony leaned against the wrecked doorframe and watched as he turned and dropped down onto all fours, body twisting and shifting before he even hit the ground.

And then he was just a dark shape streaking away across the morning snow.

 

***

 

Rhodey pretended to be mad at him when he got back—giving him a stiff hug and an overly-aggressive pat on the back. Tony could tell he was mostly just relieved that he hadn't killed himself again.

Steve was off somewhere, probably being a hero. But Wanda and Bruce were hanging around the kitchen, still finishing up their breakfast, so Tony called an impromptu team meeting at the table. He grabbed some coffee and told the others about last night, carefully editing out any mention of Stephen. And their post-fight activities, of course. Wanda and Bruce kept exchanging furtive glances as he spoke.

Rhodey just looked concerned. "We had another abduction last night," he said when Tony had finished.

"Where?"

"Homestead in an unincorporated area. Family got woken up around three in the morning. Their barn was on fire, and some ghouls were attacking their cattle. Mom, dad, and grandpa went out to fight them off. When they got back, their kid was missing. Edgar Douglas, age sixteen. His little sister was fine—still sleeping in her bed. Didn't see or hear anything."

Tony swiped through the files in front of him, eyes moving swiftly over the information. The farm was approximately five miles from where he'd spent the night with Stephen, based on his rough calculations. Too close. He wondered if it could possibly be the same crew. Unlikely—neither Friday nor Stephen had sensed the presence of a human nearby. And the ghouls were finished by the time Stephen was done with them. "Poor kid," Tony mumbled.

"That's all you have to say? Poor kid?"

Tony looked up. Rhodey was watching him. "Well, his parents _did_ name him Edgar..."

"Jeezus, Tone." Rhodey shook his head.

Tony sighed. He was frustrated, too. "Anything else you can tell me? I mean... How do we know this kid didn't just get fed up with life on the farm?"

"Because we have video footage from the family's security feed," Rhodey said. "Shows two people approaching the house. One of them goes in past the wards, comes out with the kid a few minutes later."

They all watched as Rhodes played the footage. Two dark, vaguely human-like shapes wearing hoods stepped forward out of the shadows, they hesitated, then one moved toward the house and out of the camera's range. 

Tony backed the video up and froze it on the two figures. Both wore dark clothes, but that's all he could see. The footage was too grainy—just a mass of gray and black pixels. He couldn't make out their faces at all. Couldn't tell if one of them might be the vampire from last night. 

Wanda leaned in to squint at the image. "They broke through the wards surrounding the farm? How?"

"We don't know yet," Rhodey said. "The family's threatening to sue the Mage who set them, claiming they were defective somehow. The Mages' Council has sent in an investigator to see if the wards were faulty." He sped the footage up to the point where two figures—the dark one, and a boy in pajamas—came stumbling back into the range of the camera and the three of them disappeared into the shadows. "We believe the fire and ghoul attack was just a diversion. So they could take the kid."

Tony ran a hand over his goatee. He didn't see what the big deal was. Wards had always seemed like the worst kind of wishy-washy pseudoscience. The sigils on his suit worked great, until they didn't. Either way, only one of the kidnappers actually made it past the wards. Maybe that was significant, maybe not. He had the sudden urge to ask Stephen about it. And thinking about Stephen gave him another idea.

"What about using magic to track this kid? Or any of the missing people?" he asked, looking around at the group. "Why haven't we done that? Have we done that? It seems like something this hocus pocus bullshit might actually be useful for."

Wanda was already shaking her head. "Tried it. They're blocking us somehow. And I don't have enough experience with black magic to counter their spells."

"What if I... knew someone who had experience with black magic? Hypothetically, of course."

Wanda gave him an indulgent smile. "Then, _hypothetically_... I'd like to talk to that person."

"Good. Great." Tony nodded. "Let me see what I can do."

Rhodes looked back and forth between Wanda and Tony, frowning. "Right..." he said slowly. "Any other thoughts?"

Tony had a lot of thoughts, but none that he felt comfortable sharing with Rhodes right now. "Other than that this family needs a better security system...? Nope."

"You think this could be the same group you ran into last night?"

Tony exchanged a quick glance with Bruce. "No." He shook his head. "According to the timestamp this happened a little after three in the morning. I was ambushed around half an hour later, over five miles away. No way it's the same monsters." And, yet... he couldn't shake the feeling that the two things were connected. Had the trap they'd stumbled into last night been meant for him or for Stephen? Or both of them?

Rhodey looked thoughtful. "So we had at least two packs out hunting last night. Plus, some farmer out by Colville shot a were that was attacking his horses."

Rhodey put pictures of the were's corpse up on the display. A woman, emaciated and filthy. Naked in the snow. Probably starving if she was desperate enough to attack domestic animals. Tony felt an uncomfortable stab of guilt.

"I don't know about you guys, but this sudden increase in sub-natural activity makes me nervous." Rhodey looked around at the rest of them with solemn eyes. "I'm heading back to the city tonight. Be gone for a few days—gotta take care of some bureaucratic bullshit. Keep the Feds happy. Just call me if you need anything." He nodded once. "Let's be ready."

"And... break," Tony murmured. He sifted through the files on the screen in front of him.

Rhodey gave him a pat on the shoulder as he walked past. "You should get some sleep, man."

Tony grunted absently in response. He was too awake now to consider trying to go to bed. He got up and poured himself another cup of coffee, sat back down at the table. Bruce was still hovering anxiously in the kitchen.

"So what really happened last night?"

Tony looked around. He and Bruce were alone now, so he figured it was safe to speak freely. "Basically everything I told you guys, except Stephen was the one who took care of those ghouls. He did some crazy voodoo shit and freed their spirits. I need to talk to Wanda about that, actually. I think—"

"Yeah, yeah." Bruce nodded. "And after that? You didn't really ground yourself because of the weather, did you? I checked, and there wasn't anything dangerous on the radar last night."

"No. Stephen and I needed to talk."

"What did you talk about?"

"Huh?" Tony blinked up at Bruce.

"You said you needed to talk. So I'm curious what you talked about."

They really hadn't talked much, had they? Tony realized too late that this was a trap. Bruce could be a devious little shit when he wanted to be, even though he was good at hiding it under that flustered scientist exterior. And Tony was too tired and scattered right now to come up with a convincing story. Bruce knew it, too.

"Just... the usual things werewolves and vampire hunters talk about. Life as a dog, you know..." Tony's mind strayed back almost involuntarily to what they'd actually been doing. He took a sip of coffee to hide the grin that was threatening to break free.

Bruce groaned. "Oh, Tony. You didn't..."

He tried to feign innocence, but it was probably a lost cause at this point. "Didn't what?"  _God_ , he was the worst actor.

"Tony, what the fuck!" Bruce sat down in his chair with a thump. "What the hell are you thinking?"

"I didn't even say anything!"

"I know you, Tony. And I know that look." Bruce scrubbed his hands through his hair. "You only look that smug after you get lucky. I can't believe you..." He shook his head and looked back up at Tony with pleading eyes. "Please tell me you were careful, at least. If you get infected, your life won't ever be the same..."

"Relax. We were safe. And Stephen is just as much of a stick in the mud as you are."

"Did you use a condom?"

"Didn't actually get to point of needing one, but thanks for asking. If you want any more details, I'll happily—"

"What about any contact with his seminal fluid? That's the most common documented route of infection—"

"Stephen already gave me the skinny on that. And, nope." Tony shook his head.

"I'm serious, Tony. You can't risk—"

"Appreciate the sex talk, _Dad_ "—he gave Bruce a pointed look to shut him up—"but it's really not necessary."

"Okay, fine. _Fine_." Bruce nodded to himself. "I'm going to give you a booster just to make sure. And I've got some condoms for you."

Tony had to move his coffee out of the way so he could bang his head on the table.

 

***

 

By that evening, Tony was beyond exhausted. But after having nothing but coffee and ice cream for dinner, he knew it would be pointless to try sleeping.

He sat at the desk in his empty workshop, instead, pulled up the latest security feeds and instrument readings from the Greenfield facility. He stared at the feeds for a while, reveled in the comforting stream of data, rubbed at the sore spot on his arm where Bruce had stabbed him. All was quiet. Rhodey had assured him that nothing was up. The facility was well-protected with tech and magical wards. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that somehow these abductions were connected to this power station.

"Fri, give me a map showing all reported human abductions over the past"—Tony tilted his head, considering—"two months." That should go far enough back to see any patterns.

"Sure thing, Boss." The map flashed to life, little blue dots indicating the last known whereabouts of those who'd been taken. 

"That's my girl," he said absently. Rogers had noticed the same pattern he did: the abductions were clustered around the facility. What had Stephen said? The vampire clan had started moving into their territory recently. He hadn't really managed to get a straight answer out of Stephen, but Tony got the impression that their territory was also somewhere near the reactor facility. It was a large area, mostly forest and abandoned farms. Very few people—perfect for sub-naturals. Not so surprising that a vampire hive would choose to move there. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Tony hated coincidences. 

He rubbed his eyes. _Fuck_ , he was tired. Too tired to make sense of this right now.

He closed his eyes for just a minute to rest them. And then he was waking up in the dark. In the cold. He was in pain—his chest hurt terribly. Every breath, every shudder, was agony. His lungs crackled with old phlegm, but he didn't dare cough. He reached up and felt cold metal under his shirt where skin should be. Looked down and saw the metal plate, scratched with runes, glowing faintly blue. The spell was keeping his destroyed heart beating, keeping him alive.

Why the fuck was he still alive?

They came to him then, slinking into his cell like pooling ink, spreading out to merge with the shadows on the walls. Their pale skin as white and vulnerable-looking as the flesh of worms.

"Stark."

He shrank back into his corner and shut his eyes. 

One of them came closer, kneeled down beside him. The vampire from the forest. She wasn't like the others: dark where they were pale, sleek where they were bloated. Eyes of the deepest, most beautiful black he'd ever seen. She reached out to cup his chin and her fingers were as cold and damp as the ground he sat on. "Do you remember me now, Tony Stark?"

"No," he whispered. "You weren't there." This wasn't real. He knew it hadn't happened this way. This was a dream.

She tipped his head back with her fingers and he was too weak and sick to resist. The cold, wet smell of her moved closer, enveloping him, dark robes covering his body like a shroud. Her lips were soft against his neck. He shivered at her touch. A sharp, stabbing pain made him jump. He groaned and tried to move away, but her hands held onto him like steel. 

And then her mouth against his neck, her teeth buried in his flesh, started, somehow, to feel good. _Not real_ , he told himself, _it's just a dream_. But he couldn't help it—he tipped his head back against the dirt wall, wanting more. And— _oh God!_ —he was—

Tony was abruptly awake, still sitting at his desk, gasping for breath. He clutched at the nano housing unit on his chest and remembered... The metal plate, and the magic that drew power from his life force, were long gone. Steady, solid tech had repaired his heart, kept it beating now. He kept his palm on his chest, waited until his pulse slowed.

 _Fucking dream_... He must have dozed off, despite the caffeine circulating in his system. But that weird pleasure/pain feeling from his dream was still there, along with a bizarre sense of disorientation, like reality had become distorted somehow. Tony rubbed at his neck, trying to figure out what was happening. The workshop looked normal, empty. He was pretty sure he was awake now. He _felt_ awake.

The feeling in his neck was getting irritating. He stretched and closed his eyes. And when he did he was suddenly somewhere else again.

With Stephen, he realized, in his head, surrounded by the smells of incense and woodsmoke, the flickering warmth of a fire. But... he was definitely awake this time. When he opened his eyes, he was back in his sterile, familiar workshop. _Interesting_... He sat up straighter in his chair, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes again.

Stephen was human right now. Tony was aware of his— _their_ —body, the shape of it. Sitting on something soft, leaning against something warm. Tony recognized that there was another person with them. Apparently, very close, maybe behind or next to Stephen. He couldn't see the other person, but he could smell them: fresh, damp earth, and wet leaves. The forest floor. A vampire. A familiar vampire—the same vampire he'd seen Stephen with before.

And he was... The vampire had his mouth on Stephen's neck, feeding on him. 

 _Shit_. Tony sat still, breathing hard. Stephen didn't seem like he was scared or in danger. He seemed relaxed and comfortable. Tony took a deep breath, tried to get his panic under control. Let the peace he was feeling from Stephen flow through him. Gradually, he relaxed, too. 

Despite the fucked up dream he'd just had, the bloodsuckers had never bitten him while he was their prisoner. It was the only mercy they'd shown him. Very few people who had been fed on survived to tell their stories. And, more often than not, they were too traumatized to articulate what exactly they'd felt. Just that having the life slowly drained out of them was terrifying in a way that nothing else could be.

And, yet, this didn't feel _bad_. Not exactly. A little pain, mixed with that odd pleasure he remembered from his dream. The vampire's lips were soft against his neck, a sharpness underneath that must be teeth. Gentle suction against his neck as the vampire fed. Each pull sent a strange thrill through Stephen's body. 

Tony shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

This... _act_ between Stephen and the vampire wasn't sexual right now, but it had been in the past. Tony wasn't entirely sure how he knew this. He was just aware of the fact, like it had come from his own memories. Jealousy spiked hot and bitter and unwelcome in his chest. Tony curled his hand into a fist on the chair's armrest, slammed it down.

Not his business, he reminded himself. Stephen didn't owe him anything. And the guy was allowed to have a past. God knows, Tony did, too. He took a deep breath and shook his hand out.

Focus on something else, he decided. For example, where was he?

Wherever this was, it was dark. The smell was familiar. _Home_ was the best way he could describe it. He wasn't accustomed to thinking in smells like Stephen was. Tony took a leap and guessed that this must be Stephen's room. Unfortunately, he couldn't see much of his surroundings. Stephen was obviously used to his room and wouldn't oblige him by looking around. Tony got only a few fleeting glimpses when Stephen opened his eyes: books stacked haphazardly on shelves, an old wood-burning stove with a crackling fire inside, a worn quilt on the bed, something red hanging by a door.   

And then even those flashes faded to black as Stephen drifted closer toward sleep.

Eventually, the feeling of the vampire feeding stopped. There was the oddest warm tingling in his skin that made him shiver. Tony assumed this was Stephen healing. The arms around him retreated and then gentle hands brushed against his neck, followed by the feeling of someone pulling his clothes back together. The bed dipped as someone moved. Tony wished Stephen would open his eyes so he could see what was happening.

"Thank you, my friend." A voice with an accent, maybe British. Very close.

Stephen hummed sleepily in acknowledgment. And finally opened his eyes.

 _Fuck_. Tony tried not to flinch at the sight of a vampire sitting so close. That bizarre duality was back—his own panic warring with the calm emanating from Stephen, the assurance that this was okay. This was normal. Tony fought down the urge to jump up out of his seat, to defend himself.

This vampire was either young, or had never fed on human blood. He was black, maybe early forties. His green robes looked like the ones Stephen wore, but these had been embroidered around the neck and the sleeves with intricate vines and branches bearing oak leaves. He looked so human. Except for his eyes... Those deep black eyes reminded Tony of an oil slick, of death. The eyes of a predator. And, yet, he was looking at Stephen with such fondness.

"So... this man you were with last night. This human..."

"Yes?" Tony felt Stephen's resigned annoyance. He'd obviously been interrogated about this before.

"You were... _with_ him." It wasn't a question.

A flush of heat went through the were, but he didn't deny it. Tony could feel a conflicted mix of emotions pouring from him: embarrassment, happiness, worry, lust, shame...

 _Fuck_. Tony shifted in his chair.

"You trust this man." The vampire looked surprised. " _This_  man, of all people. Our sworn enemy. The great Tony Stark. The Iron Man." The vampire's black eyes sparkled with amusement.

Tony scowled. _Asshole_ , he thought.

Stephen hesitated for just a moment. "I do," he said. Tony could feel the conviction behind Stephen's words—he really meant that. 

"The great Tony Stark, indeed..." The vampire gave Stephen a knowing smirk. "I know that trust doesn't come easily for you. So I will trust in the Vishanti. And in you. That this is the right path for us."

Stephen nodded, but stayed silent. He was still thinking about Tony.  

"You should sleep. I can tell that you're exhausted."

Tony could feel that, too. Whether it was coming from him or from Stephen, though, he didn't know.

"Just..." The vampire hesitated. "Just be careful, Strange."

"I'm always careful."

The vampire smiled. "Not... _always_." That gently chiding tone again. He got up and left, closing the door softly behind him. 

Despite how tired he was, Stephen was restless. Tony felt him shifting around in his bed, kicking the blankets off and then pulling them up again. He reached up and scratched at the nearly-healed vampire bite on his forearm, ran his hand over it. He wasn't in pain, as far as Tony could tell. And he wasn't uncomfortable—not exactly. His emotions were a confusing jumble right now—harder to interpret when he was awake, apparently. Tony waited, curious, unwilling to risk breaking the tenuous connection between them.

Stephen huffed and rolled again. He was thinking about a smell, Tony realized. A very familiar smell—sweat and warmth and musk, mixed with the comforting scents of cotton and soap and coffee. The smell of a human. And the tang of metal, the ozone sting of electricity, traces of engine oil.  _His smell_ , Tony realized.

Another shift of Stephen's legs, and a slow thrill hummed through his body, heat settling low in his belly. And _that_ was all too familiar. Tony felt Stephen roll over onto his back, felt him reach down, hand seeking and finding his cock under the waistband of his pants.

Tony jerked in his seat. _Holy shit,_ he could feel that. He supposed he shouldn't find that surprising—he'd felt everything else so far. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. The connection between them got more intense.

He could feel the satisfaction as Stephen's scarred fingers closed, could feel a twinge of dull pain as his joints protested. The first stroke sent pleasure throbbing through him. It was an odd sensation—almost like masturbating, almost like watching someone else masturbate, and almost like what he'd felt last night when Stephen had those long fingers wrapped around him. Before Tony knew it, he was also hard.

He should feel guilty that he was allowing this to continue, essentially eavesdropping on Stephen's most private thoughts. Moreso, because of the context. A better man would probably find some way to stop this, break their connection somehow. But... he didn't want to. And, since he was a deviant now, anyway—a monster fucker—what did it matter?

Stephen stroked himself a few times, slow and easy, and his grip was frustratingly loose. His injured fingers, Tony remembered. They didn't seem to hinder him much at first. Arousal pooled hot and heavy in his groin, despite the pain.

Stephen's breathing sped up as he got closer. Tony was getting closer, too, right along with him. And Tony could feel the exact moment Stephen decided to give in and grip himself harder, stroke faster. The dull ache in his hand rose to a shriek. His arousal was stronger, though, and his hand kept moving faster. He was in a race, Tony realized, to get off before the pain overtook him, completely focused on ignoring it.

He was almost there, too—Tony could feel him teetering on the brink of orgasm—but the pain in his fingers soon became too much, overwhelming the pleasure, distracting him. Stephen growled and rolled over, tucking his sore hand up by his head. Anger and frustration and longing rolled through Tony like a bitter wave. 

 _Fuck_ , he felt bad for the guy. Tony scowled down at his dick and tried to get more comfortable in his chair, reached down to adjust the damn thing in his pants—

Stephen gasped.

Tony froze. _What the hell?_ He could feel Stephen also go still, mind suddenly sharp and searching. Tony held his breath and waited to see what would happen.

"Tony?" Stephen finally whispered.

 _Fuck_. He'd been caught spying on Stephen's mind like some kind of pervert. Should he talk out loud? Tony couldn't really hear Stephen's internal thoughts, just emotions. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, it's me," he said quietly into the empty lab.

He could feel Stephen's amusement through their connection. "Were you just watching me?"

Might as well admit to everything. "Yeah."

"How long has this been going on?"

Was Stephen trying to figure out if Tony had seen him with the vampire? He decided to be vague for now. "It's happened a few times now. When I sleep, sometimes I dream that... I'm you." It sounded weird as hell to say that out loud. "This is the first time it's happened when I'm awake."

"That's interesting," Stephen said. Tony could feel him thinking again. "A side-effect of the bond, perhaps." 

"Maybe." He assumed that's what it was. Another thing he needed to talk to Wanda about. That would have to wait, though. He wanted to ask Stephen if he regretted what they'd done last night. If the shame he felt was about Tony, or just the fact that he was human, or something else...

Stephen distracted him from that line of thought by pressing his palm to his erection. When Tony jerked, he chuckled. "Can you feel what I'm feeling?"

Tony swallowed hard. "Uh... yeah."

Stephen made a thoughtful humming sound. "I think... I can feel what you're feeling, too. When you, uh... touched yourself, just now."

Oh, right. He _had_  done that, hadn't he?

"Can you?" Tony mused. He suddenly had an idea. And, like most of his ideas, it was a very, very good one. "I want to try something." He ran fingers over his erection, just a tease, but he felt Stephen shiver in reaction at the light touch. 

Tony gave himself another firmer rub through his pants, letting his fingers play just under the head where he was most sensitive. Stephen groaned. Tony could sense him rolling over in his bed, pushing his hips down into the mattress. The jolt of his pleasure echoed in Tony's own body. Oh, yeah—this was a _very_ good idea.

"Tony..." Stephen mumbled. 

"Is this okay?" Tony asked.

"Yes," Stephen said, and his voice was a low rumble in Tony's head.

Tony unbuttoned his jeans, worked his hand inside. When he finally freed his aching cock, he sighed, feeling Stephen's relief mirrored as his own. He moved his fingers idly up and down his length. "How do you want it?"

"Just... what you like. If it feels good to you, it will feel good to me."

Tony started off slowly, the way he would if he was doing this just for himself. He wished he'd had the foresight to stash some lube in his desk, but the idea that he would ever need it in here had never really occurred to him before now. No matter—he was leaking enough now that his hand was gliding smoothly. And it wouldn't take much if he decided a quick finish was necessary. Chafing shouldn't be a problem.

He kept his eyes closed and tried to focus on what Stephen was feeling. And he was feeling pretty damn good. A little desperate, a little frustrated, and sensitive, and much closer to the edge than Tony was. The were was still pumping his hips slowly into the mattress, now matching the movement of Tony's hand, breathing hard.

Tony gave his next stroke a little twist at the top and they both moaned together.

Stephen muttered, " _Fuck_ …" in a low, desperate voice. He grabbed a pillow and shoved it under his hips. The next press down was better, more satisfying, and Tony thrust his own hips up in sympathy.

 _Damn,_ he'd been so focused on what Stephen was feeling that he'd let himself get a little overexcited. But Tony was enjoying this too much to let it end so soon. He bit his lip and forced himself to keep his pace unhurried, slowed down even more whenever he felt Stephen getting worked up. _Damn_ , it felt good… keeping them both right at the brink. Together...

Stephen groaned. "You're teasing me."

Tony grinned. "Hey, you told me to just do what I like. And I like a little anticipation before the big finale." He emphasized the words by letting his fingers tease over his slit, something that always drove him wild.

"A little... oh, gods," Stephen gasped. Tony could feel him shaking now. "Just... _Tony, please._.."

 _Oh fuck_ , that was it—hearing Stephen beg was all he needed to push him over the edge, all that careful control be damned. " _God, yeah... baby.._.." Tony murmured. And then he gave in to the orgasm he could no longer hold back and thrust hard, let the wave of intense pleasure rush over both of them.

"Wow," Tony said when he could speak again. 

"Yeah." 

Tony tucked himself away, did his best to clean up the mess he'd made. They sat in silence for a while, just listening— _feeling_ —the other breathe.

Tony spoke first. "I need to see you. I need your help with something." 

"Hmm... sleep first," Stephen mumbled. To Tony, he felt like a boneless lump in his bed, comfortable and sated.

"Fine. Tomorrow." He barely managed to get the words out before a huge yawn took him. _Fuck_ , he probably wouldn't have any trouble sleeping now.

"Goodnight, Tony."

"Goodnight."

The next time Tony closed his eyes, he was alone. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! End of semester blues, etc...

"This is a bad idea."

Tony glanced over at the werewolf in the passenger seat. He looked tense—his trembling fingers were folded rigidly in his lap and he was staring out the car window, eyes flicking back and forth at the passing scenery.

Stephen was dressed in the clothes Tony had picked out for him: a dark suit, black button-down shirt underneath—the unofficial uniform of someone from the Mages' Guild. Tony had borrowed—okay, _stolen_ —the pants and shoes from Rogers' room, had been forced to buy the jacket and shirt. He thought he'd done a pretty good job guessing Stephen's size.

"Relax. You look fine." _More than fine,_ Tony thought. The man looked damn good, in a severe sort of way. Black was definitely his color.

Stephen interrupted his vigil at the window for a second to shoot him a dirty look.

"You look human," Tony clarified.

"But I'm not human." Stephen shook his head, eyes moving back to the window again. "This is a bad idea."

"You've already said that. Look," Tony sighed. "It's all about context, Doc. No one's going to think you're a were as long as you act human."

Stephen gave him a small smile. A wry one, but it was the first since they'd gotten into the car. "You don't think my kind have used that tactic before?"

Tony tipped his head, acknowledging that they had, of course, sometimes with devastating consequences. A single were couldn't do much damage on their own, but a were carrying a bomb could destroy a security fence or damage a ring of protective wards enough to let others through. Vamps and ghouls could never pass for human, but weres could, if you didn't know what to look for. DNA tests were too slow, and test strips that reacted to the presence of antigens were hard to read and not very reliable. Most towns had eye scanners now that measured the amount of light reflected by the back of a person's retina.

"No one's going to be checking you for eyeshine as long as you're with me." And Stephen's eyes looked close enough to  normal in daylight that the issue wouldn't even come up. Tony was sure of it. "You'll be fine."

Stephen grunted and turned back to the window, watched the countryside slide past.

 

***

 

The farm was typical of homesteads that had been cropping up in recent years, beyond the safety of the cities. New technology built onto the remains of the old, pre-dark society. Here, the encroaching forest had been hacked away to reclaim the land. Most of the stumps had been ground down, but Tony could see where they were still working, using chainsaws and heavy machinery to mow down the young trees.

There were too many acres to ward effectively, so the dairy cows they passed along the pitted dirt road had all been branded with protective sigils and wore collars of silver alloy. Any sub-natural who dared touch one would likely get a good shock or a burn. Still, Tony figured they must lose a lot of livestock, were probably used to the raids. The dairy barn, itself, loomed black and hulking against the stark trees. Half of it had burned to the ground, and the ruins were still smoking in the cold, autumn air. The barn had been warded, of course, but the monsters had used Molotov cocktails to set it alight.

Stephen grew even more tense as they approached the farmhouse. Tony glanced over at him, but the guy stayed silent, staring out the windshield at the modest blue and white ranch ahead of them.

Tony could clearly see where the edge of the wards surrounding the house started—someone had conveniently marked the line with little yellow survey flags—and the air above was shimmering in that creepy way that screamed _magic_. Tony parked in a wide gravel area between the house and barn, and some other outbuildings, well away from the edge of the wards. A couple of county sheriff's cruisers were already there and he could see a few uniformed officers standing around the remains of the barn. The investigation into the abduction must still be going on. 

Tony stepped out of the car and buttoned his suit coat. Stephen followed, moving in a weird, stiff way that was so unlike his usual smooth grace. Tony frowned at him.

The sheriff must have noticed their approach down the road, and he sauntered over, hitching his belt back up under his ample belly as he walked. _Great_ , Tony thought. He'd dealt with this asshole before and he wasn't looking forward to doing it again.

The sheriff was one of those small-minded types who had no business being in a position of power over anyone else. A racist, mysoginistic asshole. Tony had seen pictures of the guy posing with the strung-up corpses of weres. Some of the bodies were so small and thin…

For his part, McKay afforded Tony a certain amount of grudging respect. He supposed because of his reputation as a vampire killer and his contributions to the war on the dark. But he was still a rich liberal who'd gone to a fancy college. He owned a fucking building in Manhattan. So he could never be trusted completely.

The sheriff carried a gun in a holster, loaded with silver bullets, Tony knew. Plus, a photon gun, manufactured by Stark Industries, of course. He was also wearing a cowboy hat. Tony thought it looked fucking ridiculous.

The guy stopped a few feet away and eyed him lazily. "Stark."

"Sheriff... McKay, is it?"

"That's right," he drawled. The sheriff paused to spit on the ground. And even that was done with exaggerated slowness. "Was told you might show up. Had your little witch around here yesterday, asking questions." He didn't sound too thrilled about it.

Tony tried to smile. "Yes, Ms. Maximoff. My little witch." Wanda would be thrilled to hear that. 

The sheriff looked past Tony's shoulder. "Who's your friend?" And then, "He okay?"

While Tony had been busy dealing with the sheriff, Stephen had gotten closer, still moving with that weird, stiff gait. Tony cleared his throat. "This is, uh... This is..." A low, almost sub-sonic rumbling was distracting him...

_Oh fuck._

He grabbed at Stephen's arm as the were drew even with him. Stephen went deathly still, and the growling got louder. 

And suddenly Tony could feel what Stephen was feeling. He was terrified, Tony realized, and fighting for control with everything he had against a tide of overwhelming impulses. The urge to flee, the urge to stay and fight. To protect his... _mate_. And Tony could feel his cells, the very atoms they were made of, loosening, shifting...

" _Boss...?_ " 

He didn't need Friday's tentative warning, or the data streaming from the tracker, to know that Stephen was freaking out. This was going to go very badly, very fast.

So Tony did the only thing he could think of: he closed his eyes and thought,  _Stephen Strange, act human!_  as loudly as he could. If he could feel Stephen this clearly, maybe Stephen could feel him...

Stephen gave him a quick, shocked glance, but then his whole demeanor changed. He straightened up and his tense shoulders relaxed. The growling stopped. And, before Tony could stop him, he was stepping forward past him into the sheriff's space—not aggressive, but confident—with his hand out and a charming smile on his face.

"Sheriff McKay? I'm Stephen. Nice to meet you."

McKay hesitated for just a moment, looking back and forth between Stephen and Tony, before shaking Stephen's hand. "What guild did you say you were with again?" 

Tony allowed himself to take a tentative breath. The costume was obviously working—the sheriff assumed Stephen was a Mage.

"I haven't yet. District three, New York City," Stephen said smoothly, and Tony had no doubt that would be correct if he bothered to look it up. "Mr. Stark just wanted a second opinion on the wards here, so he asked for my help."

McKay narrowed his eyes and gave one more suspicious look to both of them. "Already got a Mage," he said petulantly, "But I suppose it won't do no harm to get an outside opinion. Just make sure you boys don't touch anything. This is still an active crime scene."

"Of course, Sheriff," Stephen said.

Then the man turned and started walking away. Tony let out a long breath and saluted the sheriff's retreating back.

"I've got my eye on you, Stark," McKay called over his shoulder. "Just holler if you need anything."

"You good, Doc?" Tony asked as soon as the sheriff was out of hearing range. _Fuck_. It was far too easy to forget that Stephen wasn't human, that he hadn't been human for a long time.

Stephen took his own deep breath and nodded. "Yes. Thank you."

"Sorry about the... you know." Tony gestured vaguely at his head. "But I couldn't think of anything else."

"Not a problem." Now Stephen looked embarrassed. "I apologize. Sometimes, I can't control my instincts. I... I wouldn't have attacked him, though, I would have run."

"And he would've shot you." Tony was curious. "Why that guy?" Stephen had been a complete gentleman around Wanda. Hell, he'd let Bruce stab him in the back with a twelve inch needle without so much as a snarl.

"It was... the way he approached you, like he was ready for a fight. It's hard to describe, but... the way he smelled... I just reacted."

"Yeah." Tony had to agree. "Guy does smell pretty bad."

That got a small chuckle out of Stephen, and most of the tension seemed to melt from his shoulders.

Crisis averted, Tony decided.

"Let's get to work." Tony walked closer to the edge of the marked line, still keeping a respectful distance from the wall of magic in front of them.

Stephen followed warily.

"Tell me if these wards are any good," Tony said. Wanda had already been out here, of course, and the local Mage, whoever that was. But Tony wasn't opposed to getting a third opinion, especially when he had other reasons for bringing Stephen out here.

Stephen closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. He raised one hand slowly, as if he was feeling the air. "These wards are working," he said, after a few moments. "They're good wards. No sub-natural would be able to cross them."

Well, there went one theory... Tony glanced over at the sheriff. The man was still standing near the edge of the driveway with his arms crossed, watching them. Too far away to overhear their conversation, however. Tony waved, but the guy didn't respond. _Asshole_.

"What would happen if you tried to cross them," Tony asked.

Stephen finally opened his eyes and shrugged. "I wouldn't be able to. It would be like trying to walk through a wall."

"But it wouldn't be dangerous?"

"These particular wards aren't designed to harm, only repel. I would be fine."

Tony grunted. _Good_. "What about... altering the wards in some way? So you could get through. A Mage set these, so why can't a Sorcerer make changes?"

Stephen was already shaking his head. "Not possible. Wards are... magically inert once they're set. They're basically untouchable and unalterable except by invitation from someone who has a claim on the land they protect. And, then, only if the intentions of the ward crafter making the changes are aligned with the wishes of the people the wards protect."

"Interesting," Tony said. So... not the same as changing a few lines of code, then. Too bad. "Can you do magic as a wolf?"

Stephen looked at him curiously, apparently not too bothered by the random subject change. Maybe he was getting used to being around Tony Stark... "Not much. It's difficult. I don't have the same mental focus when I'm in that form."

Tony nodded, remembered how Stephen’s mind had felt different when he was a wolf and just now when he'd threatened to turn into one. Still undeniably _Stephen_ , but more fluid, simply reacting to smells and sights as they were encountered. 

Tony looked around. McKay was still staring at them, so they had a little more time to kill. The guy would have to get bored eventually, Tony hoped. "So... you and your vampire friend... How did the two of you meet?"

Stephen gave him a thoughtful look, like he was wondering where this conversation could possibly be going. "We're both Sorcerers. I studied at Kamar-Taj under Mordo. Eventually, we became equals."

"You were co-workers. I get it," Tony said lightly. 

"More than that, maybe... We worked together. Fought together. He was... taken a year or so before I was. I didn't think I would ever see him again. But somehow he found me... and saved me. He was the one who helped me escape from the vampire hive. I owe Mordo my life, many times over." Stephen gave Tony an understanding look. "Look, Tony... Whatever I have with Mordo. Or... whatever we did have... It's not the same as what's going on between us."

"And what is, exactly... going on between us?" Tony narrowed his eyes at the man in front of him. "Are we... mates?" It sounded so bizarre to say out loud, but was the word that came the closest to what Stephen had felt about him.

Stephen's face flushed. "I don't... I'm not sure..."

Tony really couldn't take it anymore. He reached out and pulled the startled werewolf down into a kiss. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw the sheriff give a disgusted shake of his head and stalk off back toward the barn. Another excellent plan. Stephen made a little desperate sound in the back of his throat, and Tony slipped a hand down to cup his ass. A really, really excellent plan, in more ways than one...

When Tony pulled away—which probably used up his self-control quota for the day—Stephen's eyes were half-lidded, glowing just slightly in the shadows.

 _Damn_. Tony swallowed and glanced around. McKay and the deputies were all busy over by the wreckage of the barn. No one was paying attention to them anymore. "Come on." He grabbed Stephen's hand and pulled him around the far side of the house.

"Oh no... This doesn't look at all suspicious," Stephen murmured, but he followed along.

"The sheriff already knows we're hiding something—that's your fault, by the way—so he might as well think you're just some hot guy I picked up and tried to pass off as a mage." Tony stopped near the back of the house and looked around. This was a good place to test out his theories. Out of sight.

Stephen grinned down at Tony, almost shyly. "Isn't that the truth, though?"

Tony thought about it. "You got a point there. And that's exactly why my plan is so genius. The closer we stick to the truth, the more believable the story. Speaking of which..."

He grabbed the lapels of Stephen's new jacket and yanked the man down for another kiss.

Stephen was the responsible one this time. He drew back and very gently pushed Tony away until they were standing at arm's length. "Tony?"

 _Oh god_ —that voice! Especially saying his name like that... "Yeah?"

"What _are_ we doing over here?"

"Oh, right..." Tony swung around again, peering around the edge of the building. They were still alone. "So, last night, after three cups of coffee and before we had our little"—he cleared his throat—"uh, session... I had an idea. What if a vampire forced a human to bond them? Through coercion, extortion, threat of torture, whatever... And then that vampire forced the human to grant them permission to cross the wards?"

Stephen's eyes had narrowed and he got that distant, thinking look Tony found so distracting. "Hmm..." he said.

"Wards are a human construct, powered by human will, right?" Tony continued. "So it stands to reason that a human can grant a bound creature permission to cross them..."

Stephen nodded—not in agreement, but understanding. He tapped one finger against his chin. "Clever... Magical theory indicates that might be possible, given the right parameters..."

"Well," Tony said, "we've got some wards, a bound creature"—

"Watch it," Stephen growled, but he was smiling.

—"and the creature's master..." Stephen rolled his eyes and Tony flashed him a wicked grin. He would probably pay for that later. And, honestly, he was looking forward to it. "So, why don't we test those parameters? Right now."

Stephen nodded. "Worth a try..."

They both turned to face the wards. Up close and in the shade, the shimmering wasn't as obvious—just the faintest distortion in the air. 

"You ready?" Tony asked.

"Yes."

Tony took a deep breath and concentrated hard on the outcome he wanted. _I want you to be able to cross the wards_ , he thought, forming the words precisely in his mind. Still felt like new-age, wishful thinking bullshit, but what the hell... "Stephen Strange, cross the wards." 

Stephen's eyes got that glazed-over look and flashed too bright for a half-second. Then he stepped forward and... slammed into nothing.

"Woah! Okay," Tony said. " _Stop!_ " He rushed forward and grabbed Stephen before he could stumble backwards.

Stephen shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That didn't work," he mumbled.

"No shit." Tony looked around. Luckily, they were still alone—no one else had seen Stephen's very convincing mime impersonation. "Right," he said. "Test one: unsuccessful."

"Agreed." Stephen still looked a little dazed, but he was recovering fast. "What's your next great idea?"

Tony glared at him. "Magic is capricious as hell, in my experience, so I'm going to phrase it differently. See if that works..."

Stephen hummed in acknowledgment.

Tony didn't close his eyes this time, because that didn't seem to be necessary, but he did put as much conviction as he could muster behind the words. "Stephen Strange, I give you permission to cross the wards." He sighed and muttered, "God, I sound like an idiot."

One corner of Stephen's mouth twitched up in a smile. This time, he turned and approached the line slowly, with his hands out in front of him. Tony could see the exact moment his fingers hit the wall, flattening out and turning white at the tips. He pressed harder, but the empty air wouldn't yield.

After a few more half-hearted shoves, Stephen stepped back. "Nope." 

" _Damn_ ," Tony muttered. He'd been so sure that would work.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, considering the problem: the impossible to cross wards that were also easy to cross. None of this was adding up.

Tony finally said, "I'm going to take a closer look. Be right back," and strode toward the house. He shivered involuntarily as he stepped through the wall of magic. Nothing happened, of course—mortals could cross most magical barriers freely. There was a small porch on the back, with an old rocker and a side table, some muddy boots lined up along the wall. He jogged up the steps and spun around slowly, looking for anything out of ordinary.

There, above the back door, was their useless security camera. The doors and windows were all standard issue, as far as Tony could tell—no security bars, no alarm system, no sigils etched in the glass. The family had relied almost entirely on their ring of wards to keep them safe. 

Made sense, when you thought about it—the greatest danger out here was an attack by sub-naturals. People were few and far between. Human-on-human crime was at an all time low now that they were an endangered species.

The back door was totally ordinary, as well. No special sigils or runes, no wards at all. Tony reached out and ran his fingers over the deadbolt. It was intact—no evidence of tampering. They must have left the door unlocked when they ran out to the barn that night, never expecting anything to make it this far—

Tony dropped his hand."Keep it simple, stupid," he muttered, then, " _Fuck..._ "

"Tony? What is it? What's wrong?"

Stephen's anxious voice barely registered. _Holy shit!_ He's been such an idiot...

Tony whirled around. "I'm a fucking idiot! I've been so focused on looking for the most complex solution, I neglected the most obvious one..." He grinned at Stephen. "It was a human!"

Stephen was still staring at him like he'd gone crazy.

"A human crossed these wards."


End file.
